


The Heart of Ophelia

by anyrei, mugglerock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, And We Convey That, Angst, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel, Case Fic, Cutting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean is a Good Friend, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fic is Not Shakespearean Despite the Title, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forced Love is Not Cute, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry Castiel, I'm Sorry Dean, Intentional Unsafe Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Obsession, Obsessive Love, Oral Sex, Sam and Mick are Besties, Sam is a Sweetheart, Season/Series 12, Season/Series 12 Spoilers, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Dean, Unhealthy Love, Unsafe Sex, Witch Curses, lovesick castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 02:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyrei/pseuds/anyrei, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugglerock/pseuds/mugglerock
Summary: Always throwing himself in harm’s way for the Winchesters, Castiel ends up getting hit with a love curse. Under the influence of fabricated emotions, Castiel learns just how dangerous unrequited love can be. And Dean learns what it means to doubt everything he’s ever believed. They have a week to find a way to lift the curse, otherwise the intoxication of “love” will kill Castiel. Literally.[Part of SPN Canon Big Bang 2017][Beautiful art created by nonexistenz]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST: THIS IS OUR FIRST BIG BANG. Participating in this year's [SPNCanonBB2017](https://spncanonbigbang.tumblr.com/), because we love us some canon, we couldn't resist! We hope you are as excited as we are! <3<3
> 
> Any here: For those who know our other fics, this will come as a surprise but in this fic Frankie and I switched roles! I'm Dean and Frankie is Cas!!!
> 
> Frankie here: One of the BIGGEST plus sides of writing with a coauthor is, if you aren’t all that comfortable writing a character a certain way, sometimes you can switch! And that’s what we did. Gotta admit, I enjoyed the challenge of playing Cas opposite someone who is particularly great at his characterization in general. 
> 
> Also, again, we had to take a trope and fuck with it. Love spell/potion fics have a tendency to either be one of two things, “fuck or die” or the sort of sweet, fluffy, “the effects wore off and they didn’t notice because they were actually in love with each other all along!” concepts. We chose neither and went a little more dark with it. We wanted to depict the sort of darkness that accompanies an unrequited and obsessive/false love. Hopefully we did the concept justice and you lot enjoy what we wove.
> 
> As far as canon, this is set mid-season twelve (SPOILERS AHEAD) because we adamantly refuse to accept that Mick or Castiel are dead. 
> 
> Also, a HUGE squishy thank you to our amazing beta: [sammyxcakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyxcakes/pseuds/sammyxcakes) for doing a quick, efficient, awesome job of editing our fic. And especially thank you for pointing out our addiction to ellipses. Damn! lol.
> 
> And another HUGE squishy thank you to our artist: [nonexistenz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz), who provided some absolutely gorgeous art for this story. The art is in the body of the fic and can also be seen [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11561499) and [here](http://nonexistenz.tumblr.com/post/163253825497/part-of-the-spn-canon-bigbang-2017-fic-on-ao3). You are a goddamn miracle! You both are!
> 
> P.S. If you're bored, you can follow us on our [joint tumblr](https://the-real-anyrock.tumblr.com/). <3<3
> 
> THERE IS A TRANSLATION FOR THIS FIC INTO RUSSIAN (большое спасибо Shiorino for your hard work <3): <https://ficbook.net/readfic/5823035>
> 
> THERE IS ALSO A TRANSLATION INTO SPANISH (Thank you so much Thomary221B for that <3<3<3): <https://archiveofourown.org/works/16642262/chapters/39018230>

****  


 

**Chapter 1**

  
  


Men of Letters | File 952SW68 04032017

 

_ Sam Winchester’s personal notes: _

 

_ Two weeks ago we got this case in Savannah, Georgia and it's one of those rare occasions where I wish I could go back in time and change everything. I wish I would have never found out about that shop and the cursed objects they sold. I couldn't imagine how this little case, that started out so harmless, unremarkable… could have such devastating consequences for my brother and our friend Cas.  _

 

_ I wrote everything down, just in case a hunter or another Man of Letters comes across something like this. So hopefully, whoever will read this, can prevent something like this from happening again. _

 

* * *

 

 

“What are you writing?” 

 

Sam closed his laptop for a moment, giving his brother a long look. Dean looked terrible, like he hadn't slept in days. His voice sounded hoarse and rough, as if he’d spent the last night crying, or shouting his soul out of his chest. Dean rolled the beer bottle in his hand, staring at it with empty eyes.

 

“Just about the case, you know,” Sam answered carefully.

 

Dean huffed out a noise that was a mixture of acknowledgment and sarcasm. “The  _ case…  _ is that what we’re calling it now?”

 

Sam sighed and pushed his laptop aside. “Dean. Look…” He kneaded the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, trying to will away the starting of a headache. “I can't imagine what you're going through at the moment…”

 

“Yeah, right. You  _ can't.  _ So do me a favor and stop talking about it,” Dean pressed out before he glared at him. “It doesn’t change anything, alright? Talking about it won't make everything magically better. I lost him, Sam. That’s a fact you can't just talk away. I lost Cas.”

 

* * *

 

**Two Weeks Earlier**

 

“I got a case from Mick that sounds interesting. Apparently there’s a shop in Savannah, Georgia that sells a lot of cursed objects. It’s just a milk run from the looks of it, but since we’ve got nothing better to do and you're just short of shooting the walls out of boredom, I think we should check it out.”

 

Dean looked up from his laptop, where he was secretly looking at hentai porn images under the guise of looking for a new case. He quickly closed them and looked up at his brother in feigned interest. “What? Those douche nozzles can't even secure a few cursed objects without us holding their hands?" 

 

Sam pursed his lips in annoyance. “You down or not?”

 

Dean held up his hands in surrender. "Yeah, sure. Got nothing better to do anyway." It still irked him that they got their cases from those assclowns, but he had to admit  –  at least they kept them coming. "I'll ask Cas if he wants to join us. Guy could use some fresh air." 

 

That was met with a shrug as Sam returned his attention back to his phone. Apparently, Mick had been waiting on the line when his brother raised the device to his ear and said, “Yeah, we’ll take it… What are we looking at?” Sam disappeared from the library as he continued his phone call.

 

Dean sighed and shut down the laptop. Damn, he really didn't like Sam constantly being on the phone with that Mick guy. Sounded like they were best buddies now. What the hell ever happened to 'we don't trust those guys'? 

 

He made his way down the corridor to Cas's room, knocking when he only heard silence from the other side of the door. “Cas?”

 

After a beat, the door was opened and Cas was leaning against the frame. “Hello, Dean.”

 

“Hey.” Dean couldn't stop grinning when he noticed his friend's hair was all over the place. “Just wondering if you wanna join us on a little case." 

 

Cas tilted his head as he appeared to contemplate his decision. He nodded. “Let me grab my things. I’m assuming we’ll be leaving shortly?”

 

Dean nodded, smiling at the how casual Cas looked without his trench coat. He could still remember when Cas had worn the thing all the time, like it was his second skin. His friend had come a long way since the beginning, when he was just an emotionless-robot-angel. “Yeah, no stress. Sam’s still on the phone with his British boyfriend... Okay, I gotta ask – what happened to your hair? Did you fall asleep watching trash TV?"  He stepped in front of Cas and combed his fingers through the dark brown locks, in a futile attempt to tame the petrified mop on his head, before he eventually gave up with a shrug.

 

Cas chuckled. “Something like that.” He went to his dresser and grabbed his coat and an angel blade, folding the coat over his arm as he approached Dean. “What sort of case?”

 

Dean couldn’t help but smile, seeing Cas being amused had always been contagious. "Just going to get some cursed objects from some sort of shop in Georgia. It's a milk run. But I thought you might like a change of scenery."

 

“I appreciate the thought,” he commented as he followed Dean back out to the library. 

 

“You feeling okay enough to go out there?” Dean pointed vaguely to Cas’s lower abdomen. He knew he was completely healed, he had seen it with his own eyes, but he still had a feeling that Cas wasn’t completely okay.

 

Cas arched his brow at him. “You worry too much. And yes. I’m fine.”

 

"It's hard not to with you sometimes," he mumbled, before he noticed Sam coming back to the library, obviously finished with his phone call. "Any news from Mick-y Mouse?"

 

Sam ignored the snarky nickname and answered, “Yeah. It’s an oddities shop in old town Savannah. They don’t think the owner knows she’s selling cursed objects. He gave me a list of the ones they know about, but there could be more, so we need to try to not touch anything…” He looked pointedly at Dean as he said the last part.

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “One time.” And clearly Sam would probably never let it go. “So we grab our special kit and do the good ol’ breaking and entering routine?”

 

“Actually, uh… They’ve given us a credit card. They want us to buy all of the cursed objects.” He sounded sheepish. 

 

Dean’s jaw dropped as he slowly tried to process the new information. "A  _ legit  _ credit card?"

 

Sam nodded. “Yeah. A legit card, dude.” He walked over to Dean and pulled the card out of his wallet, showing him.

 

"And you’re only telling me this  _ now?  _ We could buy so much stuff with this. I mean, I vote we still do the breaking and entering thing and use the money for something nice." Like strippers, an awesome motel room for a change, and some top shelf whiskey. He didn’t say it outloud, but Sam probably knew what he was thinking.

 

“Dude, they check the receipts. They’d know if we used it for something else. Especially strippers and booze…” Sam made sure to secure the card in his wallet.

 

"I'm appalled." Dean crossed his arms over his chest and continued, "I would  _ never  _ use the money for simple pleasures like that."

 

“I don’t always understand subtleties in language like sarcasm, or what you refer to as ‘joking’, but even  _ I  _ know that’s an outright lie,” Cas quipped, a smirk in place.

 

"Even you, Brutus?" Dean shook his head at Cas before he pointed at Sam. "You're no fun and we should get paid for this shit. Can we, at least, get a nice motel room on that card?”

 

Sam sighed. “Let me call Mick and ask…”

 

Dean made a whipping noise and accompanying hand gesture, grinning at Sam who responded with a patented bitch face. Bitch face number seven, to be precise. Dean shrugged and turned to Cas. “You know that, as my best friend, you  _ always  _ have to take my side, right? It’s a rule.”

 

Cas tilted his head and folded his arms over his chest as he returned, “Then, in theory, as  _ my  _ best friend, you wouldn’t lie and confuse me.” 

 

"What? You don't believe me?" Dean asked in a feigned innocent tone. He laid his hand on Cas's shoulder. "And there’re no rules about confusing your best friend." 

 

Cas fixed him with an unamused expression and turned away from him to pull his trench coat on and hide his angel blade in the thing. How he always managed to procure the weapon so quickly from somewhere inside his coat would probably always be a mystery to Dean. One day he should just ask Cas about it, but maybe not as long his friend glared at him like Dean had just announced wanting to make a deal with a crossroad demon.

 

He wondered what was going on in Cas’s head lately. He had never been a Chatty Cathy, but even for his standards, the guy had been pretty quiet and withdrawn. He hoped he wasn’t about to do something stupid again. He just wished Cas would talk to him. Yeah, pot calling the kettle black and all, but still – it bothered him. He wished Cas would just trust him with whatever problem was on his mind. That’s what friends were for. 

 

“So, Mick said we can use it for the motel. We can even pay for our travel expenses, we just have to fill out a form.”

 

“Yes!” Dean made a triumphant fist pump. “I take it that travel expenses include snacks on the way?”

 

“Snacks: yes, strippers: no,” Sam affirmed.

 

“But  _ pie.  _ Pie is a snack and I bet we can find a nice steak house on the way,” Dean pointed out, damning Sam for knowing him too well. “Come on, Sammy... live a little! We’ve earned that. Right, Cas?” He gave his best friend an imploring, pleading look. One that he knew would work on him.

 

Cas fixed Sam with an unreadable expression before responding with a dry, “You and your brother have earned a steak, Sam.”

 

Dean clasped Cas’s shoulder in delight before he gave his brother a shit eating grin. “See? Cas approves.”

 

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. But no booze.”

 

“Sometimes I wonder how we’re even related.” Dean shook his head slowly before he grabbed the duffel bag from where it was lying on the library table. “Okay, no time like the present. Let’s roll.”

 

* * *

 

“A goddamn milk run?!” Dean yelled, hiding behind a storage box, while the witch magically made knives fly through the air at them. “I didn’t hear you mentioning that the shop was run by a witch! I hate witches!”

 

“They said the owner was a sweet, old lady!” Sam yelled back as he ducked behind an overturned table to reload his gun. 

 

“She’s a hag!” Dean tried to shoot the witch, but the old lady was faster than he would have expected for a woman who had to walk with a cane. A cane that apparently had an angelic sword hidden inside, as Dean found out a moment later when she pulled at the handle to counter Cas’s attack with his angel blade.

 

“Would the two of you please stop arguing?” Cas yelled as he managed to disarm her before moving to hold up an ottoman to catch the remaining flying knives.

 

The witch screeched in frustration as she mumbled a spell that made the crate Dean was hiding behind explode into a million pieces. Dean tried to sprint towards Sam, but a powerful force threw him against the wall. He hated when that happened. Why did they always get thrown against walls?

 

The last thing he noticed before Cas pushed him forcefully to the ground was that the witch was throwing something at him. Cas let out a grunt of pain as he collapsed to the floor. 

 

“Cas!” Dean pulled him quickly behind the table with Sam who covered them by shooting at the witch. He cupped Cas's cheeks, worried as he noticed the pained expression on his friend’s face. "Cas! Look at me! Are you alright?"

 

Cas shook his head and brushed Dean off. “I’m fine. Get the witch.”

 

Dean nodded, his eyes still on Cas as he quickly reloaded his gun with the last witch killing bullet. When he peeked over the table, the witch grinned and threw something on the ground that exploded into a cloud of black smoke. Dean took the shot, aiming where he had last seen her, but when the smoke dissipated, there was no trace of the old hag. “Son of a bitch,” Dean murmured as he slowly lowered his gun. “Sam, she got away.”

 

Sam dusted himself off as he stood up from his makeshift barricade. “Damnit! Cas, you okay, buddy?”

 

Cas was slightly wobbly as he moved to stand, bracing his hands against the bookshelf to his right. He was keeping his gaze downwards. “I, uh… I don’t know.”

 

“What do you mean? Did she hit you with whatever she tried to throw at me?” Dean looked around, trying to find whatever she had used as the projectile. It didn't take him long because it was still lying on the ground where Cas had pushed him aside. It was a silver pendant that was shaped like a broken heart. Dean knelt beside it and looked up at Sam with a worried expression. “Is this one of the cursed objects?”

 

Sam’s eyes widened when he got a closer look at the pendant. “Fuck!”

 

“Do you know the curse on it?” Dean asked his brother, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking over at Cas. 

 

“No, I was just given the list of the objects. I’m gonna call Mick and see if he knows what it does.” Sam’s tone was fretful. He grabbed his cellphone and stepped just out of earshot as he barked, “Mick! Hey, man. Nice milk run…”

 

At least it was nice to know that Sam was still giving Mick shit about their awful reconnaissance. Cas was still bracing himself against the bookshelf when he walked up to him. “How are you feeling? Any idea what that curse might have done to you?”

 

Cas flinched away from Dean, almost tripping over himself to get away from him. “Don't come near me.”

 

Dean held his hands up, shocked at Cas's reaction. "Okay, okay. Don't worry. Just tell me what's happening so we can fix it, Cas." 

 

“I don't know, Dean!” he snapped. His tone was panicked more than angry.

 

"Calm down. Everything will be fine, okay? Just focus, try to tell me what’s going on." Dean gave Cas an imploring look, trying to sound as soothing and calm as possible, even though he felt the exact opposite. He was worried as hell, because they had no idea what that curse was. He hated feeling helpless, they needed to find out what they were dealing with.

 

Cas curled in on himself as he fell to his knees, grasping a shelf, a sharp intake of breath being his only response.

 

"Shit. Sam!" Dean yelled for his brother before he knelt next to Cas, touching his knee. "Cas! Please tell me what you need!"

 

The guy was trembling all over. He gasped at the touch and looked up. Cas’s eyes were widened, panicked, and before Dean could even register what was happening, he yanked Dean forward, crushing their lips together.

 

Dean made a strangled, surprised noise before he pushed Cas back, gaping at him in shock. "Cas, what the – "

 

“I’m sorry, I… I don’t –”

 

In that moment Sam came running back into the room. “What’s going on?” When his eyes landed on Cas, he leaned down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Cas?”

 

"That's a damn good question." Dean rubbed his hand over his mouth, still in shock. "I think Cas got cursed with crazy.”  

 

“That would probably be better,” Sam commented as he patted Cas on the shoulder. He let out a sigh as he continued, “Mick said it’s a love curse. They don’t know exactly what kind though…”

 

“Great...” Dean sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face, trying to not think about the fact that Cas had just kissed him. “That’s great. Are they looking into it? He isn’t going to die, right?”

 

Sam shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, Dean. Yeah, they’re looking into it, but without knowing exactly what  _ kind  _ of curse it is…” He held his hand out to Cas and helped him stand. “Man, Cas. I’m sorry.”

 

Cas shook his head. “No need to apologize, Sam.”

 

Dean couldn’t even look at Cas. He bit his lower lip as he tried to think about their game plan. “So, I say we pack up the stuff we came here for. Get it to safety, and then we’ll try to track that witch.”

 

“I’ll… I’ll find another ride,” Cas offered, his voice a little more hoarse than usual.

 

“What? No. That’s stupid!” Sam argued.

 

“I hate to agree with Sam, Cas. I know this is an awkward situation, but you have to stick with us. We have no idea what side effects this curse has and I’d rather endure the awkwardness than let you out of sight.”

 

Cas looked like he was in physical pain, his face a grimace. “I… I can’t. I don’t understand why, but it’s… I think it’s getting worse.”

 

Dean exchanged a worried look with his brother before he carefully asked, “Are you in any pain?”

 

“Not physical, no.” Cas had gone back to not making eye contact.

 

“But?” Dean pressed on. He didn’t really want to talk about this, especially in front of Sam, but he had to know what was going on with his friend.

 

Cas gave Sam an imploring look. “Please don’t make me discuss this with him…”

 

His brother looked torn, wanting to respect Cas’s wishes, but clearly not wanting to piss Dean off. Sam gave Dean a pointed look, silently asking his permission to talk to Cas privately.

 

Dean let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. I’ll get the box from the trunk.”

 

* * *

 

Cas pinched the bridge of his nose, relief washing over him with Dean’s departure. The further apart they were, the effects appeared to be less… less whatever they were. When he was first struck with the object, he didn’t feel any different. But as the fight continued to unfold, his concern for Dean slowly began to increase.

 

And then it didn’t cease, even with the witch having departed from them. His heart lurched with fondness, and grief, and concern, and fear, and a plethora of other emotions that were slowly overwhelming him. He wasn’t all that great with emotions to begin with.

 

It didn’t help that Dean started drawing closer, his own concern for Cas starting to mix in with his own emotions and it all was becoming too much. Then the idiot had to go and touch his knee, even after Cas had implored him to not come near him. And then that awkward kiss, that felt physically more like a slap than anything that could resemble affection.

 

Everything seemed to be silenced for the few seconds they were connected and that utterly terrified him. And still, all of it was confusing until Sam explained what it was that he had been cursed with. It was both a relief and no relief at all.

 

Cas let out a deep sigh before he looked up at Sam. “Whatever the effects of this spell, they seem to be growing. I don’t know if that makes sense?”

 

Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Everything I’ve read about curses and spells like that seem to indicate they can get worse if they’re aiming for a certain goal. The question is, what is this curse aiming for and what will happen to you if it reaches it course?”

 

“I’m certain the intent is to drive me to madness, because even though I asked him to leave, even though we’re trying to have a conversation; all I can think about is Dean. I want nothing more than to…” Cas scrubbed his hand over his face as he continued, “If this is what love is supposed to feel like, I don’t understand how any of you survive it.”

 

Sam shook his head. “It’s not love, Cas. This is an unhealthy obsession that was forced on you. I had something similar done to me once, so I get how you feel right now. We know…  _ Dean  _ knows that this isn’t you, if that’s any consolation.”

 

While Sam’s prior experience was surprising to Cas, it didn’t make him feel better. And neither did the fact that Dean knew it wasn’t anything he could help. In fact, that appeared to make it worse as his heart clenched painfully at the lack of reciprocation. And furthermore, to mentally understand his feelings were false just made the fact that he was succumbing to them even more frustrating. He wanted everything to be quiet. He wanted to kiss Dean again.

 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay in close quarters to Dean. Perhaps I should check myself into a different motel until you find a cure.”

 

Sam seemed to contemplate the suggestion. “We could try, but if you feel any worse with Dean’s absence, we’ll need to deal with it in a different way.”

 

Cas sighed. “Yes, but in his presence... I can’t assure my restraint.”

 

Sam grasped Cas’s shoulder. “I know, but don’t play the hero just because this is awkward. If it gets worse and the curse ends up punishing you for staying away, we need to find another way. We aren’t going to lose you because of this.”

 

“You say that now, but when Dean shoots me because I forced another kiss on him…” While he didn’t honestly think Dean would kill him, or attempt to, for kissing him; the fact of the matter was Cas could not guarantee  _ not  _ attempting to. He had no idea what came over him that first time and with the way it quieted the overwhelming noise of what he was feeling; it was taking every ounce of strength he possessed to not try it again.

 

“Dean would do anything to save you, Cas.” Sam gave Cas a pointed look before he cleared his throat to continue, “Look, maybe just separating you from him will work. You can just stay in our motel room, distract yourself with the TV, and we’ll try to find that witch.”

 

At that Cas’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you, Sam.”

 

The relief was short-lived when he suddenly felt a surge of protest at the back of his mind. The last thing he wanted was to be separated from Dean. 

 

Further proof the decision to separate was probably a good idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

  
  


Cas checked the time on his phone for the fiftieth time in the last five minutes. And that was a bad idea, because at that point, Dean hadn’t responded to the text he sent and the longer he went without hearing a response, the worse it was.

 

Clearly Dean wanted nothing to do with him. Which was understandable, considering he was a pathetic angel with broken wings and what would Dean ever see in him? Not to mention his vessel was male…

 

Grabbing one of the pillows from the bed, he thrust it against his face and screamed. He started pacing in the small motel room, trying to force himself to think of anything else.  _ Anyone  _ else. When he forced himself to think of Hannah, he almost felt sick with regret. As though even just thinking of someone else would be a betrayal to Dean.

 

_ Dean. _

 

Cas grabbed his cell phone again, staring at the time. The 4:17 PM flashed at him in mocking. As though the solitary minute should have changed the outcome of the lack of response. He’d sent Dean fourteen text messages since they’d dropped him off at the motel an hour ago. 

 

Why hadn’t he responded to a single one? What if he was hurt? Or worse? The insecurity and self-hatred suddenly paved way for outright dread. Suddenly several different scenarios were playing in his head.

 

What if they had gotten into a car accident? What if they had been bombarded by a pack of werewolves while driving to find the witch and he had no idea? Cas just sitting there in a motel room and doing absolutely nothing to help the only family he’d ever known. To help the man he was presently irretrievably in love with; no matter how forced that emotion was.

 

“Fuck!” Cas punched the mattress, damaging the frame of the bed with the strength of it. It wasn’t often that he swore, but this situation called for it.

 

Maybe Dean had stopped at a bar and was presently hitting on a waitress. The thought made him feel physically ill. Cas’s stomach lurched and he barely made it to the toilet bowl in time to empty its contents. Which wasn’t much. He would simply pick at small meals to make the Winchesters feel less weird about the fact that he wasn’t predisposed to eating. 

 

Wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, Cas moved to sit on the bathroom floor, leaning up against the wall. He pulled his cell phone out again.

 

4:18 PM

 

Still no response from Dean. That was when the sadness hit. He missed Dean so much, it was almost strangling him. As tears started to form, he was helpless to stop their flow. He needed to know why he wasn’t responding. He needed to know that they weren’t hurt, or worse.

 

Cas’s hand trembled as he pulled Dean up in his contacts list and hit call. With every ring and lack of answering, his fears kept playing out in vivid imagery, seeing flashes of Dean hurt, Dean dead, Dean in the throes of passion with someone else. If this was what love was like, he’d be content to never feel it again. 

 

“Cas?” Dean suddenly answered, sounding out of breath. “Are you alright?”

 

At the sound of Dean’s voice, he broke down and started sobbing.

 

“Fuck… what’s going on? Do you want me to come back?” Dean pressed out, sounding worried.

 

“I can't do this, Dean. All I keep thinking is all the horrible things that could be happening to you…” he managed to gasp out between sobs. Cas hated this.

 

“Everything’s okay with us, Cas. We’ve talked to the police, trying to get a lead on the witch, and then we went to the library because Sam wanted to look something up. No news from Mick, yet, but at least we have a license plate for the old hag, so we can trace her now. Seems like she doesn’t fly on a broomstick.”

 

Cas let out a wet laugh, already starting to feel a little better just hearing the sound of Dean’s voice. He wiped the wetness from his cheeks with the sleeve of his trenchcoat. “That's… that's good.”

 

"Cas." Dean sighed before he continued, "Be honest with me, okay? Do you need me to come back? Cuz I'm telling you, hearing you like this, it scares the crap out of me."

 

He desperately wanted to tell him no, to not worry about him, but Dean asked him to be honest. “I thought I could handle it, Dean. I… I'm sorry for being so weak.”

 

"Don't  _ ever  _ say that, Cas. You're  _ not  _ weak." Dean's voice didn't sound angry, but rather determined. "This isn't... Look, you're in this situation because you saved me. We’ll deal with this and we  _ will  _ fix it. Together. Okay?"

 

That made him want to cry again. Cas had been in love with Dean for approximately two hours and he was already an emotional mess, the thought of this curse lasting longer than that was filling him with dread. “Okay. Please come get me. I fear I may damage more of this motel room if you don't…”

 

He heard a mumbled explicit over the phone and some shuffling, before he could hear Dean’s voice again, “I’m on my way. Just try to… I don’t know… Just wait for me.”

 

Cas nodded before he realized Dean wouldn't be able to see him. “I'll just stay in the bathroom. Should I lock myself in?”

 

“Whatever you feel is best. Just hold on, buddy.” 

 

Cas's heart clenched painfully at the familiar term. The urge to tell Dean he loved him was overwhelming. “Please hurry,” was all he managed before he forced himself to disconnect the call. 

 

Two minutes later, he had visions of Dean getting into a wreck on his way to him. Cas curled in on himself as he moved to sprawl out against the tile of the bathroom floor. “Please hurry, Dean.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hurry up, sasquatch!” Dean was already behind the steering wheel waiting impatiently for Sam to fold the paper in his bag before he sat down next to him, way too slowly.

 

“What’s the emergency?” he asked as he finally put his damn seatbelt on.

 

“Cas.” Dean started his baby. “Just got off the phone with him. He... “ Dean shook his head, trying to get rid of the cloud of worry that was starting to suffocate him. “He doesn’t sound good, Sammy.”

 

“What does ‘not good’ mean? How bad is it?”

 

"I don't know, Sam!" he yelled, feeling frustrated when the guy in front of him continued to drive at the speed of a turtle. "He sounded like an emotional mess. I'm afraid he’s gonna do something stupid. You know angels can't handle emotions well. I can't even imagine what this is doing to Cas."

 

“You don’t have to get pissy at me. I’m just as worried about him as you are, you know.” Sam folded his arms against his chest and leaned back against his seat.

 

Dean scrubbed his hand over his face, shaking his head. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so on edge. I’m just… worried.”

 

Sam sighed. “I get it. You don’t think he transferred it to you, right? The curse? When he kissed you?”

 

Dean shot his brother a confused look. “Is that even possible?”

 

He shrugged. “How should I know? We don’t even know what kind of curse it is. Do you feel like you’re in crazy love with the guy?”

 

Dean raised his eyebrow. What the hell kind of question was that? “No, of course not.”

 

“Then I think it’s safe to assume he didn’t transfer it…”

 

“You make it sound like some sort of magical STD...” Dean scrunched up his nose while his fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel. “Fuck, I hope he’s okay,” he murmured more to himself.

 

“Want me to call him?” Sam offered. “I could put it on speaker…”

 

Dean nodded. He suddenly felt breathless, like something heavy was pressing down on his chest. 

 

Without any hesitation Sam pulled out his phone, holding it in his palm as he dialed Cas’s cell and put it on speaker.

 

After the third ring Cas finally picked up with a confused sounding, “Sam? Are you both okay?”

 

“Yeah, buddy. We’re on our way to you, just wanted to make sure you’re still okay. We should be there in ten minutes or so.”

 

That was met with an audible sigh of relief. Dean bit his lower lip, trying to calm down his racing heart. “You okay?”

 

“No. I’m not.” There was some rustling in the background, before Cas continued, “I hate this.”

 

“What are you doing, Cas?” Dean asked carefully, exchanging a worried look with Sam.

 

“I’m picking up the shattered pieces of the bathroom mirror. It’s difficult from the way my hands are bleeding,” he said it so casually, like he didn’t just tell them that he broke a mirror enough to cause himself to bleed.

 

“Can you heal yourself?” Dean pressed out, putting his foot down on the accelerator, hoping there wouldn’t be any overeager cops trying to meet their monthly quota on the way.

 

Cas groaned. “That never even occurred to me. Is that a common side effect of love? Being stupid?”

 

Dean sighed deeply. “Definitely. Just heal yourself. We’ll be there in five.”

 

“Okay…” he sounded utterly defeated.

 

Sam disconnected the call and gave Dean a concerned look. “You don’t think he was  _ trying _ to hurt himself, do you?”

 

Dean just looked at Sam, telling him without vocalizing it that – yes, that was  _ exactly  _ what he thought. “We can’t leave him alone.”

 

“I think you’re right. Man, I really feel bad for him. Out of all the possible people to be forced to fall in love with…” Under normal circumstances that may have been a joke, but Sam sounded damn serious.

 

Dean frowned, trying to not sound pissed as he asked, “What do you mean?”

 

Sam let out a resigned sigh. “Come on, man. You and I both know you’re not all that progressive when it comes to… you know…  _ not  _ being straight. And don’t even get me started on your whole ‘no chick flick moments’ crap. What do you think is gonna happen, Dean? If he needs to be held, or comforted, you know you’re not gonna handle it well.”

 

Dean rubbed his nose and held his gaze on the street, a ton of different emotions battling at the forefront of his mind. Most of all: anger, worry, and confusion. "What are you saying? That I have a problem with gay people? Are you kidding me right now? You remember Charlie, right?"

 

He knew his last question was a low blow, but the anger was winning the battle of his emotions in that moment.

 

“Yeah, I remember Charlie. Charlie was a non-threat to your masculinity, dude. I’m not saying you have a thing against gay people, you just… you’re kind of a homophobe when dudes hit on you.” 

 

“Well, first of all, Cas isn’t  _ gay.  _ He’s the victim of a love curse. And second, I’m not a homophobe. How can you even say that? I might feel uncomfortable when I get hit on by a dude, but that doesn’t make me a homophobe. I would feel uncomfortable if I got hit on by a eighty year old lady, too. I’m just not into that.” 

 

Sam scoffed. “Tell yourself whatever you’ve gotta to make yourself feel less like a dick, but I’ve known you my whole life. You might be uncomfortable when old ladies hit on you, but you don’t freak out on them the way you do with guys…”

 

"I don't freak out and I'm not afraid of gay people. I just don't want to get kissed by a guy. Am I suddenly a homophobe just cuz I'm not into that?"

 

“No, that doesn’t make you a homophobe. What makes you a homophobe is how you react. When I get hit on by a guy, I just turn him down and guess what? You  _ don’t  _ hear about it. When you get hit on, it’s all you talk about for days. You ask me over and over how anyone could think you’re gay. At best you’re panicked and stutter and run away, at worst you’re a dick to the guy who was stupid enough to try to come onto you.” Sam touched Dean’s shoulder and said in all seriousness, “You’re my brother, and I love you, but sometimes you can be a homophobic dick.”

 

Dean sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. He knew he wasn't a homophobe. He had never thought or said something bad to a gay person. And it didn't make him a bad person because he didn’t like getting hit on by another guy. Not that Sam would understand that with his superior college view of the world where everything had to be perfect and politically correct. His feelings didn't work like that and he had no intention of feeling bad about the fact that he just wasn't into gay stuff. "So, what do you want me to do about Cas? Since you have it all figured out."

 

“I want you to  _ not _ make him feel worse about what’s going on with him, even if you have to suck it up and cuddle with him for five goddamn minutes. That okay with you?” Sam snapped, his tone was as fed up with the conversation as Dean felt.

 

Dean was really annoyed that Sam could even  _ think  _ he would let his personal discomfort hold him back from helping Cas through this. “If you think I would have any problems helping Cas through this, then you don’t know me very well. It’s Cas.”

 

He would die for Cas, almost had a few times. Five minutes of cuddling was nothing. And if just the thought of cuddling with Cas made him feel antsy and weird… well, Sam didn’t need to know that. He would just deal with it, like he always did. Ignoring it and banishing all of those feelings to the darkest, deepest corner of his mind. No problem at all.

 

“I know it’s Cas. But you’re not always nice to him…”

 

“Well, he isn’t always nice to me either. But he  _ is  _ my best friend and I’m not an idiot. I know he needs me right now.” Dean shot Sam another glare before he noticed the worry on Sam’s face.

 

The same worry he was feeling for Cas. His gaze softened. “I hear you, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and helpful.”

 

Sam nodded, wringing his hands together when they finally pulled up to the motel. For some reason Dean’s heart raced like a horse on ecstasy and his palms were sweaty. He wiped them on his jeans when he jumped out of the car and quickly walked up to their motel room. In his mind he prayed that Cas was okay before he opened the door to find a room that looked like a bomb went off. “Cas?” he called out as he carefully stepped inside.

 

Cas tentatively stepped out of the bathroom, his worried and tense expression instantly disappearing the moment he laid eyes on Dean. He rushed forward pulling Dean into a vice like hug. “Oh, Dean... I thought you weren't going to come back.”

 

For a moment Dean tensed up on reflex before his gaze fell on Sam and he tentatively wrapped his arms around Cas. "Of course we came back. I see you redecorated our room?"

 

He let out a shaky chuckle. “I'm sorry. I don't know why I took my anger out on inanimate objects…”

 

“I’m the last person to lecture you on something like that. I do it every year.” Dean gave Cas a reassuring smile. “And the best part, the douchey Brits have to foot the bill.”

 

Cas smiled in return, staring at Dean like he was the only human being in the entire universe. He sighed and shook his head. “I feel much less insane when you’re in close proximity.”

 

Dean let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and answered, "Good. Hopefully it stays that way. We got some new information on the witch. Sam can hopefully find her by hacking the traffic cams. But depending on where she is, it could take a while. Is there anything I can do to make your situation better?" He asked the last question a bit louder, just to make sure Sam heard what an awesome friend he was being to Cas.

 

“Just…” Cas seemed hesitant as he shied away from Dean, unable to finish whatever he was about to say.

 

Dean turned around to see what his brother was doing. Sam was paying them no attention, just sitting at the table, tapping away on the laptop, probably already starting to trace the witch. He pulled Cas over to the bed. “Would it help if we just sat here? I could put my arms around you… if you want,” Dean offered quietly, hoping his embarrassment and discomfort wasn’t showing on his face.

 

Cas’s shoulders seemed to sag with the way he relaxed at Dean making the offer. He nodded. “Thank you, Dean.”

 

“Don’t mention it. It’s nothing,” Dean mumbled as he awkwardly sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard and opened his arms in invitation. “C’mere, Sunshine.”

 

Cas pressed into him, the bed creaking with the damage done to the frame from their combined weight. His head was against Dean’s chest as Cas wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry.”

 

Dean carefully put his arms around his friend, trying to will his heartbeat to calm down. He had no idea why this was affecting him so much. It was just Cas. There was no reason for him to feel uncomfortable or… anxious. Fuck his brother for messing with his mind earlier. He wasn’t a homophobe. He could do this. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Cas. It’s not your fault.”

 

Dean felt hyper aware of every movement his friend made against him. He involuntarily tensed up when he felt Cas exhaling, his warm breath ghosting over his throat when Cas had looked up at him for a moment. Dean faced the ceiling, which suddenly became very interesting. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t like to cuddle, he usually liked it very much – especially after sex. But all the things he usually loved about it, he definitely wasn’t feeling in that moment. 

 

Cas’s body radiated so much warmth, something that should have been relaxing, but just made Dean felt too hot and uncomfortable in his clothes. He couldn’t relax, he felt like a rubber band that was on the verge of snapping, his muscles started to ache over the tense way he was holding himself against Cas.

 

He wondered what his problem was. He repeated, ‘It’s just Cas’ as a mantra in his head, over and over again, to keep himself from freaking out.

 

Suddenly, the warmth was gone as Cas pulled away from him, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward and held his head in his hands. “I can’t do this.”

 

_ Fuck,  _ he hoped Cas hadn't noticed his hang-up. "I thought this would help," Dean said carefully, laying his hand softly on his shoulder. "Cas."

 

“Dean. It’s almost worse,” he murmured as he turned to face him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I don’t expect you to be comfortable with this and it was stupid of me to assume you could be… I just… It’s worse that you’re forcing yourself.”

 

So much for his hope Cas wouldn't notice his discomfort. He rubbed his hand over his face, giving him a pained look. "Cas, I'm not forcing myself, I promise. I'm just not used to this. I want to help you, please.” He opened his arms again, giving Cas a pleading look for a second chance. He could do this for Cas.  

 

Cas gave him an almost pained smile, pursing his lips in an obvious effort to keep his tears in check. “You’re a good friend, Dean. I just… I can’t. I can actually  _ feel  _ your discomfort and it… I don’t like it.”

 

“What do you mean you can ‘feel it’?” Dean asked carefully. 

 

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I could feel your discomfort. I felt what you were feeling. It’s like it was compounded with my own confusing emotions.” Cas sounded utterly shaken by the concept.

 

So much for bullshitting himself through the situation.  _ Fuck.  _ Dean looked down for a moment, just staring at his hands. He couldn’t imagine how shitty it must feel for Cas and here he was making it worse. He wondered what he could do. Dean kneaded the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. I just want to make this easier on you, but I can’t help how I’m feeling… But I was telling you the truth, Cas. I think I just feel uncomfortable cuz I’m not used to this. Maybe if you give me some time?” he asked, hoping that Cas would be willing to try again.

 

Cas placed a comforting hand over Dean’s forearm. “You don’t always have to be the hero, Dean. It’s okay to have your limitations.”

 

Dean had no idea what to say to that. It reminded him of the moment when Cas had told him he couldn't save everyone. And he hated being reminded of that. Because even though it was true, it was also something that he couldn't accept when it came to Cas. His best friend was the exception for every rule he had in his life. “Doesn’t mean I’ll give up trying, Cas.”

 

He wasn’t expecting the gentle way Cas leaned forward and cupped his face. Cas’s thumb caressed the side of his face as his eyes flitted from Dean’s eyes, lingering on his lips, then slowly coming back up. “It’s what I love about you.” Cas winced at the words he used and shied away again.

 

A few weeks ago Dean wouldn't have thought twice about such a comment, especially since Cas was currently cursed with a love spell. He knew it didn't mean anything. But now – the words echoed back to that night in the barn when he thought he might lose Cas forever. Cas had said those words before, but until now, he thought he’d just meant them in a platonic, brotherly love, kind of way. 

 

He shook his head slowly. No, this situation was just messing with his head. Cas had never meant those words in a romantic way, because Cas felt the same way about him, as Dean did for Cas. They were best friends, brothers, family. Nothing more, nothing less. “Don’t worry, Cas. I know that’s the curse talking.”

 

“Doesn’t make me  _ feel  _ it any less,” he mumbled, tone bitter and resentful.

 

Dean reached for Cas’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll free you from this in no time and then you’ll be back to wanting to throw books at my head again.”

 

Cas chuckled. “Who says I don’t want to right now?”

 

Dean held his hand over his chest with an exaggerated and playfully hurt expression. He smiled at him. “Ouch, Cas. Glad seeing my mug still inspires you to unnecessary violence."

 

“The only difference now is I want to kiss your mug, as much as I want to punch it…” The smile from Cas’s face vanished. He sighed and shook his head, scooting a little further away from Dean.

 

Dean wasn't sad about the larger gap between them. The fact that Cas had said he wanted to kiss him so openly, had kind of stunned him into a weird sort of shock. That was definitely something he didn’t want to repeat. He looked down at his feet, trying to calm his heartbeat with a few calculated breaths. “Do you want a beer? Cuz I could really use one,” he pressed out.

 

“I’d rather not see the effects alcohol could have on this curse.” Cas stood up then and moved to walk around to the other side of the bed, laying down with his back to Dean.

 

Dean looked over to Sam with an imploring expression and a helpless shrug, which was met with a classic bitch face. What did he expect Dean to do? It's not like he could magically cuddle Cas better.

 

He went over to the fridge and got a beer for himself and his brother, before leaning over Sam’s shoulder, whispering, “Any helpful tips?”

 

“I don't know. If it weirds you out, maybe try pretending Cas isn't a dude?” Sam shrugged as he took the beer.

 

“Seriously? That's your tip?” Dean murmured incredulously. As if Dean could pretend Cas was a girl; the dude was a man! With very manly attributes, something Sam would know if he had cuddled with Cas on the bed.

 

Dean could pretend all he wanted, but that didn't make those arms, that had been wrapped around him, feel any less strong, not with such well defined biceps and muscles. It didn't purge the memory of Cas’s five o’clock shadow scratching over his skin when he kissed him. It didn’t change the fact that Cas had no soft curves, but was all hard and defined lines. There was nothing even remotely girly on the guy.

 

Dean tugged at the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling like the temperature in the room had spiked. He took a deep breath and walked around the bed to face his best friend, kneeling in front of the bed and resting his chin on his propped wrists as he draped his arms on the edge of the mattress. 

 

He was greeted by Cas’s blue eyes, that scrutinized him in a quizzical way. Cas’s eye color was really nice. That was something he could focus on. Even in the past Dean had problems looking away from his friend’s face because of his soul piercing blue eyes, that sometimes had the color of a stormy sea, or sapphire gemstones. Even though Cas was a guy, Dean could admit to himself that it was a very attractive feature on his friend… that and his ever-so messy hair, that looked soft and just inviting to be messed up even mo– 

 

Dean’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when he realized what he was doing. Had he really just started a list with things he found attractive on Cas?  _ Fuck.  _ This situation was really messing with him. 

 

But in a way, Sam had been right. He should focus on the things he liked so he wouldn’t feel as uncomfortable. Neither Cas nor Dean could use his hang-ups right now. Cas needed stability, he needed Dean to man up and the least he could do was give that to him. 

 

He covered Cas’s hand with his and gave him a soft smile. “Hey.”

 

“Hello, Dean,” he murmured, eyes darting to where Dean’s hand was covering his own.

 

"How are you feeling?" Dean caressed his thumb over the back of Cas's hand, his eyes still focused on ocean blue ones.

 

Cas let out a soft sigh. “I don't know how to explain it. How did you manage it? These emotions? You've felt love like this before…”

 

Dean thought about Cas's words, but he couldn't come up with anyone he had ever loved in a romantic way that had affected him that much. Sure he had his occasional crushes and he also loved a few women; Cassie, Lisa... but not like this. He shook his head slowly as he answered honestly, "I don't think I have." 

 

Cas flipped his hand, so now they were palm to palm as he returned his focus to Dean’s eyes. “I don’t recommend it.”

 

Dean couldn't help but smile at Cas before he intertwined their fingers. It didn't feel bad to hold his hand. He just felt more connected to Cas in that moment and the only thing that was really important now was to help and support his friend. "Yeah, but just so you know, love doesn't feel like what you probably feel right now. That’s the stupid curse tearing it all out of proportion."

 

“I suppose. Either way I’ll be content to never feel like this ever again.” Cas gently started stroking his thumb along Dean’s index finger. “Your eyes have flecks of gold in them,” he commented casually, as though he were talking about the weather.

 

Dean chuckled, looking away for a moment to hide his embarrassment. He always felt weird when someone said something genuinely nice about him. “Scoot over, Shakespeare."

 

He seemed hesitant at first, but moved over anyway. Cas stayed on his side, still facing Dean as he made room for him on the queen sized bed. “You seem less… uncomfortable.”

 

"Yeah, well I'm trying, Cas. I know I'm not perfect, but you have to know... you're important to me. Like next to Sam, you're the most important person in my life. And I'll do anything to help you." Dean took a deep breath and opened his arms again with a quirked eyebrow. “So, will you give me another chance?"

 

Without hesitation, Cas moved into Dean’s offered embrace, head resting on his chest. “You never have to ask that, Dean.”

 

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him closer. It was still weird. They were two grown ass men cuddling on a bed like a couple of kids, but he could stow his issues with it for Cas's sake. At least Sam didn't mock him for it. Well, not  _ now  _ anyway. His brother surely planned to mock him mercilessly after Cas was cured. When they could all laugh about the stupid curse. “You’re just one big teddy bear,” he murmured more to himself.

 

Cas drew back, his brow scrunched in confusion. “I’ve never understood that human phrase. Bears are not prone to cuddling and are actually quite dangerous.”

 

“Not if they’re made out of plush.” Dean grinned, tapping Cas’s nose so he would stop looking so cu– um… confused. He was totally aiming for ‘confused’ in his mind. 

 

Cas rolled his eyes. “You are  _ aware  _ that I am neither a bear, nor a stuffed toy, right?”

 

Dean grinned again before he ran his fingers through Cas's hair, messing it up a little. It felt as soft as it looked. "Are you sure? You look pretty fluffy."

 

“You are  _ also  _ aware I could disintegrate you with a single touch?” he teased, a soft smile breaking through the straight face he was trying to make. He sighed, this time it sounded content as opposed to frustrated.

 

Dean felt incredibly relieved that he was making Cas feel better with the light banter. It was fun to do that with Cas, so much that he had a hard time not smiling at him. "You could, but you wouldn't. You’ve already invested too much work in me."

 

Cas shied away, a smile still on his face. He seemed embarrassed.  

 

"What?" Dean grinned, tapping Cas's shoulder to get him to look back at him again, when Sam's laptop made a beeping noise. He looked over at Sam, noticing the concentrated frown on his brother's face. “You got something?”

 

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah, got a hit on the witch’s car. It looks like she went… um… shopping… At a local walmart.”

 

“You’re kidding,” Dean said dryly.

 

“Nope. So what are we going to do? We can’t confront her in a store during business hours.”

 

Dean tried to slide out from under Cas, but his friend had him in a very tight grip. He sighed. “No, but we can trail her, wait for the right moment… um… Cas?”

 

“Hmm?” he mumbled from where his head was still pressed against Dean’s chest.

 

For some weird reason Dean felt a massive urge to just wrap his arms back around Cas and hold him. But they needed to find that witch. “Would you let me get up? Sam has a lead on that old hag.”

 

“Actually, Dean,” Sam interjected as he pulled on his jacket. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean… What happened when we were gone for an hour…”

 

“I was thinking we could take Cas with us. I don’t want him out of my sight again,” Dean quickly explained, giving Cas a questioning look. “You up for a witch hunt?”

 

Cas shrugged. “I suppose it's better than sitting around being useless. And the sooner we find the cure for this, the better.”

 

Truer words had never been spoken.

 

* * *

 

Even though Cas accompanied the brothers on the hunt, they all decided it would be best for Cas to stay in the car. He wasn't at his best, he would probably endanger the mission further.

 

The only problem with that was the fact that even though they were in a very public place, even though logic dictated Dean was strong, resilient, and likely not in danger; all Cas could think of was the fact that the man he loved could get hurt. 

 

Whoever said love was blind had gotten it wrong. Love was madness. The longer the effects of the spell took ahold of him, the more irrational he felt.

 

It had been seven agonizing minutes and as each second ticked by, Cas grew more and more worried. Surely they should have located and dispatched her by now.

 

He tried to distract himself by drumming his fingers against the leather of the seat. An arrhythmic beat that parodied that of his own heart.

 

Nine minutes and no sign of the Winchesters. That was long enough. Cas grabbed the keys from the car’s ignition and headed into the department store. He frantically looked around when he stepped inside, almost colliding with an elderly person. He mumbled an apology as he made his way through the store. 

 

The longer it took to find them, the more the panic started setting in. Dean  _ must  _ have been hurt. Clearly that was what happened. And how was he supposed to live the rest of his existence if Dean had been killed? Cas wrung his hands as he darted down another endless aisle. When he saw a flash of flannel turn a corner, Cas started running. 

 

As he reached the end of the aisle, a familiar set of broad shoulders and bow legged stance instantly relaxed him. “Dean!” All logic had disappeared, because his loud cry of the man’s name was enough to alert the witch. He only just ducked in time as several kitchen appliances started flying at them.

 

Dean pushed an innocent bystander, a young woman who looked pale and started screaming, out of the way and covered her from the flying knives with his body. One of the knives hit Dean’s arm as he ducked behind a shelf for cover. 

 

Cas instantly went from panicked to irate. Wielding his angel blade, he started walking straight towards the witch, ignoring the different sharp objects that were penetrating his vessel. All he could see was red as he approached her.

 

“Cas! No!” Dean shouted, trying to get to him, blood dripping from the wound in his arm. Sam had his weapon aimed at the witch, warning her not to move, but she just threw another smoke bomb and vanished into thin air.

 

He looked around frantically, feeling immensely confused from the amount of conflicting emotions coursing through him. Cas looked down and that’s when he noticed a large kitchen knife sticking out from his abdomen. He pulled the knife out and dropped it to the ground, holding his hand against his stomach to heal the wound. 

 

Cas turned back and only saw Dean and the knife in his arm. Instantly his rage dissipated to worry and he rushed to him, gently reaching out to his arm. “Are you okay?”

 

“Do I look okay? What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stay in the car!” Dean yelled at him, before he turned away from Cas, looking at the woman and helping her up. “Are you injured?”

 

The young woman looked like she was in shock and shook her head. “No, but I don’t understand… What just happened?”

 

Cas didn’t hear the rest of the conversation they were having because he was feeding off of the anger Dean was feeling. And then an emotion he’d never experienced hit him like a shock of electricity when the woman grasped Dean’s forearm. Before he knew what he was doing, he outright growled at her. He didn’t understand what was happening, he just knew that he hated her for touching Dean in that moment.

 

The woman flinched away from Dean, who glared at Cas as he turned around to him. “Cas! That’s enough! Keep it together for fuck’s sake.” 

 

He winced. Dean’s anger with him was stifling. It shook him to his core. Suddenly all he wanted was to make amends, he  _ needed  _ to. Cas stumbled back from Dean. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t know what came over me.”

 

Dean made a gesture to Sam, pointing to the woman. “See to her and go to the manager after that for the camera footage. I’ll get Cas out of here.”

 

Sam nodded stiffly before Dean grabbed Cas’s sleeve and pulled him after him out of the store. He didn’t say a word, but the anger was practically radiating off of Dean by the time they reached the Impala. “Get in,” he barked.

 

Cas moved to get in the backseat, his hands trembling from the combination of adrenaline and the anger Dean felt. He was starting to feel physical pain from it. 

 

A pained groan from outside the car made him look up as Dean pulled the knife from his shoulder, before he walked around the Impala and vanished from his view as he opened the trunk.

 

His idiotic behavior had not only caused injury to Dean, but also caused the man to be furious with him. A wave of nausea hit Cas. He hated himself in that moment. Cas didn’t deserve Dean, he would never deserve a man so caring, heroic, strong… Cas deserved to be punished. Before he knew what he was doing, he started scratching at his forearm. His nails were dull and short, but he found if he pressed hard enough he was able to pull off parts of his skin.

 

When a little bit of blood started to appear, he felt slightly appeased. This was good. This was what he needed to make amends. Cas dug harder into his skin.

 

“What the–” Dean cursed after he yanked the door open. “What are you doing, Cas? Stop it!” Dean slid next to him before he could do more damage and wrapped his hands tightly around his wrist, pulling his fingers away from his forearm.

 

Cas gasped, Dean’s proximity clearing the fog that was making him behave so erratically. “I… I don’t know why I started doing that. I just… I needed to be punished for upsetting you.” He shook his head, desperately trying to understand his own behavior. “What’s happening to me, Dean?”

 

“Fuck,” Dean pressed out, rubbing his hand over his face, smearing traces of blood over his skin in the process. Not only Cas’s, but his own considering he was still bleeding from the wound on his arm. “Cas, it’s the curse. It’s getting worse.” 

 

Cas slumped back against the seat. “‘Fuck’ is right…” At this rate his vocabulary would be a mirror of Dean’s how often it was calling to use swear words.

 

Dean slowly shook his head, giving him a weak smile. “You shouldn’t be allowed to swear… Hey, um… would you mind healing me? I feel a bit lightheaded.”

 

Through all of his worry, his panic, his absolute insane behavior, he forgot about Dean’s wound. Cas snaked his hand up through the sleeve of the man’s shirt and pressed down, using his grace to heal the wound and replenish the blood loss. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

 

“Not your fault. Sorry that I yelled at you… I… it’s not your fault, Cas. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Dean rubbed his thumb next to the damaged skin on Cas’s forearm and asked, “Can you heal yourself, too?”

 

Cas nodded dumbly, the wave of concern from Dean causing him to feel warmth and a swelling of love and affection. He touched his index finger to the scratches, mesmerized by the way Dean’s thumb was still pressed into his arm. When Cas looked up at Dean, the soft smile and happiness he felt from the man sent a shock of another unfamiliar emotion through him.

 

Before he could stop himself, Cas surged forward and pressed his lips to Dean’s. A lot softer than the first time, but the unadulterated need still just as strong. Dean didn't push him back like the last time, but he immediately tensed up and drew back after a moment, out of reach. He didn't look at Cas, his gaze downwards, before he shook his head slightly. “We can’t do this, Cas. I know you think that you love me at the moment, but it’s not real. This will only make things awkward between us, if you keep it up.”

 

“I know, Dean. I know. I’m sorry. I can’t seem to help myself.” He wanted the happiness back. That was the most bearable emotion. 

 

Dean sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. “Would it help if we do the hugging thing again?”

 

Cas shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know… I don’t know what will help, Dean.” The urge to cry was overwhelming. He bit his lip to stifle it.

 

“Come on. Let’s just try this. It worked before, right?” Dean wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. He even buried his hand in his hair, slowly stroking his fingers through it.

 

A shudder of relief shook Cas’s shoulders as he sank into the embrace. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s torso, hands twisting into his t-shirt as he held on as if for dear life. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. At this point, those two words were fast becoming his catch phrase.

 

Dean made a soothing, shushing noise and pulled him even closer. "Everything’s going to be okay. You’ll get through this. You always do."

 

“I would take physical injury over this any day…” Suddenly it hit him.  _ Why  _ this curse was particularly disquieting. It was Naomi all over again. Not having any control over his actions or emotions. Cas couldn’t stop the tears then. He pressed his face into Dean’s shoulder and broke down.

 

Dean pulled him tighter and he could feel the man’s lips against his forehead as he mumbled, "Shh, hey, you're gonna be alright. Tell me what I can do, Cas. Tell me what you need."

 

“What I need you aren’t willing to give, so just… don’t let me go right now,” he murmured, trying to not melt at the way Dean’s lips felt on his skin.

 

For a moment Dean pulled him tighter. "I won't, I promise." It sounded like he wanted to say more, but he was hesitant. Dean's fingers carded through his hair for another moment before he mumbled a soft, "Cas, look at me."

 

Cas drew back, using the sleeve of his coat to wipe the tears from his face when he finally looked into Dean’s eyes. He was so beautiful. How had Cas never noticed that before? Dean wasn’t just attractive for a human. He was breathtaking.

 

Dean's other hand came up and softly cupped his cheek. He was mesmerized watching Dean lick over his own lips, swallowing before he leaned forward hesitantly, pressing his forehead against Cas's. It felt like time was standing still.

 

"Cas... I'd give anything to save you," Dean murmured before he tilted his head and captured Cas's upper lip in a soft and timid kiss.

 

The simple and gentle contact was enough to quiet everything. The swirling of emotions, both his own and Dean’s, were now a low hum in the back of his mind. The physical pain dissipated. Cas sighed into the kiss. 

 

There was trepidation, discomfort. He could feel it coming from Dean, but it was numbed, too. Cas carded his fingers into Dean’s hair as he sank into the kiss. He didn’t deepen it. It wasn’t his place to and this was enough. This would  _ have  _ to be enough.

 

Dean moved his lips softly over Cas's a few more times, before drawing back, just a few centimeters, his mouth still ghosting over Cas's slightly parted lips. Dean's labored breath was hot against his skin. “Better?” he asked quietly.

 

“My hero,” Cas joked weakly, his voice cracking slightly.

 

Dean drew back and started laughing, his shoulders shaking as he shook his head and dropped his forehead to Cas’s shoulder. “When did you get so funny?” He drew back and looked at Cas, his eyes still shining with amusement, a light smile playing around his lips. “It seems like only yesterday you were this angel-robot, not getting any kind of humor or sarcasm.”

 

“You’d be surprised what you learn having to live with a hilarious human and his less funny older brother,” Cas quipped, reveling in the contented bursts of happiness coming from Dean.

 

Dean gaped at him with a playfully shocked expression. “I’m beginning to suspect someone is a  _ very  _ bad influence on you. Probably the same guy who taught you to curse.”

 

“Crowley?” he teased. He wanted this feeling to never end. For the first time since the curse struck, he actually enjoyed the forced effects of love. If it felt like this all of the time, Cas could understand why people fought to the death for it.

 

“I knew that guy’s company was bad for you.” Dean shook his head with a grin before it turned into a soft smile. “You look a bit better.”

 

“I feel better. A lot better,” Cas confessed with a smile.

 

"Good," Dean said slowly, seemingly distracted as he ran the pad of his thumb over Cas's eyebrow.

 

“If you have truly never felt happiness like this before, Dean… My heart aches for you. You deserve to feel like this,” Cas mumbled as he pressed the side of his face into Dean’s hand.

 

Dean gave him a sad smile. “I’m glad you feel better, but you know there are a lot of ways to feel really happy as a human? Not just love.”

 

Cas shook his head. “I don’t know, Dean. Those burgers made me happy and that emotion isn’t even close to comparable to this.”

 

Dean chuckled lightly. “Burgers are pretty good, but there’s a lot on that scale of happiness. Pie is pretty much at the top of mine. Having a nice evening with Sammy or you. You know, when we eat pizza or watch something on Netflix, that’s also very high on my scale… Memories, good ones, like this one fourth of July with Sam as a kid, when he had fireworks. Happiness and love comes in a lot of different flavors is all I’m saying, I guess.”

 

Fondness. That’s what was overwhelming all of the other emotions in that moment. Whether his own or Dean’s, he couldn’t be certain. Perhaps it was both. Cas sighed and was powerless to stop the soft, “I love you,” from tumbling out. He winced at himself, already feeling the way Dean tensed with unease. There went the happiness.

 

Dean leaned back against the backseat and pulled Cas with him, right in his arms. “I just hope that one day you’ll know how it feels for real, and not cuz it’s forced on you.”

 

“I hope you do, too,” he murmured as he pressed into the embrace, feeling grateful for having a friend like Dean for what had to have been the millionth time in the last few hours. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 

“I’m worried that you feel tired, Cas.” Dean sighed as he wrapped the blanket around his friend, who had more or less dragged himself to bed. 

 

Cas nodded. “It’s strange, but I  _ do  _ feel tired. I think I could actually sleep…”

 

Dean sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, stroking his palm over Cas’s arm. “Yeah, that’s not worrisome at all.”

 

With a soft sigh Cas rolled onto his side. “I suppose it would be naive to hope it has nothing to do with the curse?”

 

Dean hated to admit it, but that was the only logical explanation. He rubbed his palm over Cas’s arm again, not only to reassure his friend, but also himself. “We’ll get that fixed. You just rest and get a bit of your strength back. If you need anything, and I mean  _ anything _ , you tell me, alright?”

 

“I will,” he murmured with a yawn as his eyelids slowly drooped closed.

 

Sam made a gesture to follow him outside when Dean looked up and nodded in his direction. He leaned over Cas before he stopped himself, wondering what it was he had planned to do. He shook his head, angry with himself that this situation was starting to mess with him. “I’ll be right back. Just going outside to have a talk with Sam. I’m not going to leave, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Even his voice sounded sleepy. 

 

Dean sighed and carded his fingers through Cas’s hair, before he got up and followed Sam outside. As soon as the door was closed, he leaned against it and closed his eyes. “We need to lift that curse, man. It’s not normal that he needs to sleep.” 

 

Sam nodded. “I agree and the sooner the better. Dean, I…” He let out a sigh before continuing, “We can’t take him with us. He’s a liability.”

 

“I know.” Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. “But you can’t go against that witch alone. The bitch is too powerful.”

 

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh… I know. That’s, uh… why I called Mick.”

 

Dean groaned in frustration. “Seriously? You called Harry Potter? The guy isn’t even a hunter.”

 

“Hey, give him  _ some  _ credit. He’s getting better, plus he has all of the British Men of Letters catalogue at his fingertips. I know you don’t like him, but we’ve gotta find the cure for this and the sooner the better is my guess.”

 

_ Shit.  _ Sammy had a point. Although he really didn’t like it. “Has he, at least, found something on the curse? I mean, it’s their fault that Cas is cursed now, cuz they sent us there in the first place. I hope he’s working twenty-four/seven on it.”

 

The grimace on Sam’s face was like a bucket of ice water down his back. “Uh… Actually, that’s why I wanted to talk to you alone. He, uh… he found the name of the curse and what it does, but we need to find the witch for the cure. Apparently, it’s like a custom-made to order kinda thing.”

 

“Okay.” Dean held up his hands expectantly. “What is it, Sammy?”

 

Sam wrung his hands nervously before putting them in his pockets. “It’s called the Heart of Ophelia curse. It’s, uh… It’s like this super aggressive love spell. It’s actually meant to force people into a false and obsessive love that gets worse and worse. The victim becomes so obsessed they can actually feel the emotions of who they fall in love with. And because it’s this creepy and obsessive love, it’s meant to make the victim’s love interest hate them more and more. The angrier the person gets, the worse they feel until it gets so bad that they, uh… they…” Sam sighed, obviously unsure if he should continue.

 

Dean held up his hand to stop him. “Yeah, I know. I already noticed that part. Fuck… I wish I’d known…”

 

“What happened?” Sam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

 

Dean shook his head slowly. “He… um… he hurt himself after I got angry with him earlier. Shit, Sam, what if the other person doesn’t hate him, would that break the spell somehow?”

 

Sam shook his head. “I have no idea, but… That’s not all, Dean.”

 

“There’s more?” Dean asked incredulously. As if everything that was already happening wasn’t bad enough.

 

His brother took a deep breath and mumbled, “If his feelings aren’t returned within a week, he’ll, um… he’ll kill himself. Which is messed up, because the point of the curse is to  _ not  _ have them reciprocated.”

 

Dean shook his head. “No.” To further accentuate his point, he shook his head again. “Just no. Not gonna happen. Because you’re gonna find that witch and you’ll force her to lift the curse.”

 

“I will. I will, Dean. Mick’s already hopping a flight here. I’ve got to pick him up in an hour.” Sammy’s voice was determined.

 

“So… the best I can do, as long as you’re away, is try to keep him happy, I guess...” Somehow the thought made his heart flutter and his stomach churn.

 

Sam nodded and patted Dean on the shoulder. “Yeah. And try to keep your disgust and shit in check as best you can. He can actually  _ feel  _ what you feel.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m aware and I would appreciate if you’d stop judging me. It’s not my fault I feel this way. I can’t change that it weirds me out.”

 

With a long-suffering sigh Sam turned from him to go back into the motel room. “I’m gonna grab my stuff and head out. I’ll get a cab to the airport and Mick said he can get a rental car, so...”

 

“Yeah, whatever. Tell your new bestie to find a solution for this pronto. And keep me updated.”

 

“Got it,” he muttered as he stepped into the motel room. Dean followed him quietly, immediately making his way back to the bed, sitting down on the edge to keep an eye on Cas. His friend was asleep and it was a bit unsettling to see. He nodded at Sam as his brother quietly left the room with his duffel bag and a quick wave, accompanied with a worried look in Cas’s direction.

 

When the door closed behind him with a soft click, it was the first time that Dean felt alone with his thoughts. Something he would rather not be, because he tried to ignore most of the recent thoughts and feelings that had gone through his mind.

 

But now in the quietness of the room he felt completely at the mercy of those thoughts. They scared the shit out of him and were confusing as hell. This whole situation was so messed up. 

 

His gaze wandered over Cas’s sleeping features, the almost innocent and young expression on his face. It was so unfair. His friend had been through so much lately and the hits just kept coming and coming. He knew Cas was strong, that he could carry a lot of weight, but on the other hand… emotions had never been his forte. 

 

He was good at repressing them for the greater good. They were practically the same in that way, but Dean knew from experience that repressing stuff only worked for so long before it crashed down on you like house of cards.

 

Thinking about repressing emotions reminded him of his own issues. Especially this one topic that kept gnawing at the edge of his mind. The last kiss they had shared. The one he should have felt grossed out about, but hadn’t been. The one that had left his heart beating a million miles per hour and had left him breathless. 

 

He shouldn’t feel this way, kissing another man. He wasn’t gay. But for some reason, he had liked kissing Cas on some level. He wondered if it was confusion, because he was worried about Cas and he had felt such happiness and relief in that moment when he noticed him feeling better. It was probably nothing, just the situation messing with him. Not to mention the things Sam had said to him. If he had to kiss Cas again, it would certainly feel weird again.

 

Feeling slightly less freaked out about the kiss now that he had found such a perfectly reasonable explanation, his gaze wandered over Cas’s sleeping form again. He shrugged to himself, admitting that, yeah, the guy was kind of… okay looking… In a dorky, adorable kind of way. And maybe when Cas was all mighty angel-warrior, with his shadowy wings, totally badassing it… Dean  _ could  _ admit that there was a certain kind of attractiveness to him. But that didn’t mean anything. So Cas was an attractive guy. There were a lot of good looking guys out there that Dean didn’t want to kiss. He scrunched up his nose just thinking about it. 

 

For a moment he wondered what would happen if Doctor Sexy tried to kiss him, but he didn’t get a chance to explore that thought because Cas started stirring next him. It looked like he was having a nightmare, his expression looked pained and he kept making soft, groaning noises.

 

“Cas?” He softly touched his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t startle his friend.

 

Of course the exact opposite happened as Cas jerked awake and withdrew from him. When his eyes seemed to focus, he let out a relieved sigh. “You’re okay…”

 

“Of course I’m okay.” Dean put his hand on Cas’s shoulder to reassure him. “It was just a bad dream.”

 

Cas nodded as he grasped Dean’s hand in his own before his expression turned haunted. “Dean. Angels don’t dream.”

 

They also don’t sleep, but Dean didn’t mention that. “My point is that you’re okay now. Everything will be fine. Sam’s going to meet up with Mick Davies and they’re gonna find that witch, alright? You’re going to be okay.”

 

“You didn’t go with them?” Cas’s tone was suspicious, his eyes squinted.

 

“No, I’m staying with you. Don’t worry, they have all that fancy equipment and are a couple of book nerds. They’ll find something soon.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure Cas or himself. It felt like both. “How’re you feeling, Cas?”

 

“Like a burden,” he murmured with a sigh and moved to lay on his back to stare up at the ceiling.

 

“Don’t. None of this is your fault.” Dean slid closer on the bed, Sam’s words still looming over his thoughts. He needed to keep Cas happy. “Just think of this as our little, unplanned vacation,” he suggested, surprising even himself with those words. “We could just hang out, watch some TV. When was the last time we both just hung out and chilled?”

 

“Without the potential of a world ending event looming near?”

 

“Yeah. I bet your answer is ‘never’ and that is  _ way  _ too long if you ask me,” Dean quipped before he leaned over to grab the remote to turn on the TV. “Scoot over.”

 

Obeying without question, Cas made room for Dean, moving to sit up against the headboard. “I could use a distraction…”

 

“Perfect.” Dean handed Cas the remote with a raised eyebrow, as he sat down next to him on the bed. “Choose wisely.”

 

“When have I ever…” Cas appeared to think about what he was going to say and shook his head. “Nevermind. Maybe you should choose.”

 

Dean wondered what was going on in Cas’s head. “Wanna tell me why you don’t feel good enough to choose a show?” 

 

He could have sworn Cas looked downright embarrassed as he offered Dean the remote without making eye contact. “If I recall correctly, the last time I chose something to watch in a room full of ‘dudes’ it was… highly inappropriate.”

 

Dean needed a moment to remember what Cas was talking about, but when he did he couldn’t help but laugh. He put his arm around Cas’s shoulder to pull him closer. “Oh, man. That was such a long time ago. Can’t believe you still remember that.”

 

“Angel,” he pointed out.

 

“So angels have the memory of an elephant?”

 

“If you think of it as a method of identification and survival encoding, then yes. Angels have memories like elephants.” When Dean didn’t take back the remote, Cas turned on the TV and flipped through the channels at a dizzying speed before finally stopping. “This channel is having a Dr. Sexy, MD marathon. We could watch that?”

 

For a moment Dean wondered how Cas knew that, but he guessed it was an angel thing. “You seriously want to watch Dr. Sexy with me?”

 

Cas shrugged. “You could explain all of the exposition and background I don’t understand.”

 

“Sure,” Dean answered with a wide grin. His best friend was watching his favorite show with him. This moment right now would definitely be in the top five of his own, private, happy scale. “Thank you, Cas.”

 

He smiled and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. As he raised his hand to point at the screen he asked, “So why is the attractive woman crying?”

 

Dean nodded. “That’s Dr. Esposita. She had an affair with the brain surgeon, Dr. Picollo,  but he just dumped her for the hot, young nurse, Rosita. Oh, Rosita… she has such nice, big…” Cas shifted against him and Dean remembered their situation. “Nice, big talent. That’s what I wanted to say,” he amended.

 

Cas chuckled. “I know you’re lying, but I appreciate the consideration of my, uh… feelings.”

 

He pulled Cas a bit closer, rubbing his thumb over his arm. “But you still think Dr. Esposita is attractive?”

 

“I can tell when human beings are physically appealing according to what is established as attractive, but am I sexually attracted to her? No.”

 

For a moment Dean let Cas’s answer sink in before a question formed at the edge of his mind. “Cas… can I ask you something?”

 

“Of course,” he murmured as he leaned into Dean a little more.

 

“You remember how you felt before the curse got you, right?” Dean asked carefully.

 

“Yes?” Cas answered slowly.

 

Dean shifted on the bed so he could put his other hand on Cas’s arm. “Did you ever feel sexually attracted to a woman, or a man… or both?”

 

Cas turned a little to look up at Dean. Without hesitation he answered, “Both. But I’m an angel. Sexual orientation and gender mean very little to me.”

 

Dean nodded thoughtfully. It made sense. He knew Cas wasn’t technically a man, even though his body most definitely was. He wondered how it must feel for him, or if he saw himself as a man now that Cas’s body had been his for such a long time. 

 

Dean couldn’t imagine Cas in another body… when he started to think about that, he involuntarily thought about how different their situation might be if Cas had a female body from the start. Something inside of Dean warned him to not let his thoughts wander in that direction. There was an answer down that road that he probably wouldn’t like, and what that meant regarding his whole relationship with Cas.

 

So, he did what he always did. Ignored it and shoved the thought in a box in the deepest, darkest corner of his mind. 

 

“How did you know it was a sexual attraction and not just finding someone attractive?” Dean asked, just out of curiosity, not because he was wondering this himself.

 

“I suppose like anyone else, if I could imagine myself having sexual intercourse with that person, I assumed that would be my answer.” 

 

It was weird hearing Cas say things like that. He had no idea why the thought of Cas thinking about having sex with other people made him uncomfortable. He hummed and nodded, before he tilted his head slightly. “Are you hungry, or is sleep the only thing you need at the moment?”

 

“No. It appears to only affect my energy.”

 

Dean nodded his head in acknowledgement, before he let his hand wander up Cas’s arm to his shoulder. “Do you miss eating… tasting food?”

 

Cas appeared contemplative for a moment before he finally answered, “Sometimes. When you get particularly vocal about the deliciousness of a burger, I wish I could taste it.”

 

“Man, that really sucks…” Dean couldn’t imagine living in a world where he couldn’t taste pie or burgers. “But you can taste a few things right? Like popcorn and coffee? Don't think I didn't notice you drinking all my coffee when you're at the bunker.” He poked Cas’s chest with his finger playfully, grinning at his best friend.

 

Cas stared at Dean for a moment as if he was trying to solve a puzzle and finally answered, “Foods that are more simple, that don’t have the influence of other flavors are easier to consume. And I like sugar, the coffee is just a means for me to consume it without getting strange looks from your brother or you.”

 

“That’s an angel thing, right? With the sugar?” Dean remembered how fond Gabriel had been of candy, and the douchebag angel they had met a few weeks back. 

 

He nodded. “Sugar is a simple molecule, it’s one of the few things we can actually  _ taste.” _

 

“Good to know...” Dean grinned. “Now I know what I can make you for breakfast the next time.”

 

“All you would have to do is hand me some sugar packets and I’d be content.”

 

“But I could arrange them on a plate, make it decorative, you know? Even make it look like a real breakfast. You like honey, too, right?” He had been so close to saying ‘preparing his breakfast with love’ but was thankfully able to stop himself in the last moment. Cas would have misunderstood that in his current situation.

 

Cas smiled. “Very much so, yes.”

 

Dean rubbed his hands together. “Good. I haven’t made it in an eternity, but when Sammy was a kid, he was a big fan of caramel. So, I learned to make it for him. I could make some honey caramel candies for you.”

 

“I don’t have to eat anything, though. You could save yourself the trouble,” he offered with a curious smile.

 

Dean returned the smile. “It’s no trouble, Cas. I  _ like  _ cooking for my family.”

 

At that Cas’s expression softened. “I know you do.”

 

Dean pulled Cas closer with an arm slung around his shoulder, hoping he would rest his head against him again. He felt more and more relaxed and comfortable. Doing this didn’t weird him out anymore, which was a pretty good sign. He loved Cas as a brother. When Sam was a kid and he was having nightmares or was sick, he would hold him in his arms like this, too. Doing this with Cas was no big deal. In a way he  _ was  _ sick, so he was just switching back into the role of the big brother.

 

 

 

 

Cas curled into him, resting his head against Dean’s chest. Dean put his other arm around him to hold him close. When he turned his head to look at the TV, Cas’s hair tickled against his chin and he stopped himself in the last moment to move his head again, just to feel the soft strands against his skin once more. 

 

Instead of questioning his own motivations, he turned his concentration back to the Dr. Sexy episode. “So, the guy in the coma is Dr. Cassidy’s evil twin brother and he murdered the secret lover of Dr. Sexy before he fell from a building during a police manhunt.”

 

That was met with a chuckle. “It’s utterly amazing the level of retention you have for television,” he murmured, tone light and amused. Cas started tapping his fingers from where his hand was splayed against Dean’s chest in an absent minded drumming. Dean was pretty sure he wasn’t aware of what he was doing.

 

He rubbed his thumb over Cas’s back before he said, "I know. It's a gift. You got a song stuck in your head?"

 

“Hmmm?” He lifted his head slightly to look up at Dean, still pressed against him. Still drumming his fingers.

 

For a moment Dean felt captivated by Cas’s blue eyes and his open and kind of vulnerable expression. It stirred something in him, maybe a weird sense of protectiveness. “You know when you have song stuck in your head and you hear it in an endless, repeating loop?” 

 

“What makes you think that’s what’s happening to me?”

 

Dean smiled at him and wrapped his fingers softly around Cas's hand that was still tapping against him. "Cuz you're using my chest as your drum."

 

Cas withdrew a little from him. “I’m sorry.”

 

Dean tightened his grip around him, pulling him closer again. “I'm not complaining. Drum away. I was just curious." He gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to show Cas that everything was good between them. The last thing he wanted was to upset him in his condition.

 

With a soft sigh Cas seemed to cuddle back into him with a vengeance. Clearly the verbal go ahead was all the guy needed. “Can’t you tell what I’m drumming?”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “That a challenge?”

 

“I think it clearly is,” he teased.

 

“Okay, drum away and I’ll try to guess,” Dean offered and closed his eyes, trying to guess the song, which was pretty hard without a melody.

 

There was a pronounced shift in the way Cas tapped his fingers, as though trying to keep in beat with whatever song was playing in his head, while trying to make it easier for Dean to guess. 

 

It could be anything. It didn’t feel like a pop or jazz rhythm, maybe classic rock. “‘Ramble On’ by Led Zeppelin,” Dean guessed.

 

Cas stopped drumming and drew back, eyebrow quirked. “Impressive…”

 

Dean grinned at him. “Lucky guess.”

 

“Fine.” Cas pressed his head over Dean’s heart and pointedly started tapping again, the rhythm a little slower, with occasional breaks in the tempo.

 

Dean rubbed his fingers over his chin, trying to go through songs in his head that would fit the pattern. “Okay, I’ll have to guess again. This is really difficult. ‘Stairway to Heaven’?”

 

Cas drew back and shook his head as he repeated the drumming at his sternum, making it a point to look at Dean. “Feel the beat.”

 

“It’s not that easy without a melody, Cas.” Dean closed his eyes again and tried to do as his friend suggested.

 

“Here,” Cas said as he shifted slightly and started the drumming over. After a beat he softly started to sing,  _ “ _ _ Yesterday… all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they're here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday. Suddenly. I'm not half the man I used to be. _ _ There's a shadow hanging over me. Oh, yesterday came suddenly…” _

 

Dean listened to Cas singing the Beatles song with a smile, continuing when he stopped,  _ "Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say. I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday." _

 

The air between them was electric and before he could process what was happening, Cas leaned in, capturing Dean’s lips in a gentle kiss.

 

Every thought in his head came to a screeching halt. At first he didn’t react at all, just let it happen, but when Cas pulled away, he followed his lips and kissed him back. Just for a moment he reciprocated the tender and gentle touch of their lips, before he drew back. His heart beating a million miles an hour as he looked at Cas, speechless and confused.

 

“I’m sorry,” Cas mumbled as he turned away from Dean. 

 

The shake of Dean’s head was barely there as he pulled Cas back and cupped his cheek. He only hesitated for a second before he captured his lips in another tender kiss. It felt exhilarating, exciting, maybe because he knew he shouldn't do it. It felt like he was doing something forbidden. And a part of him wanted more of it, wanted to know what Cas tasted like. 

 

As soon as that thought sprung free from its chains, it was impossible to quell the urge. He wanted this, his tongue had a mind of its own, already licking over Cas’s upper lip. 

 

His lips always looked dry, but they were surprisingly soft and pliant when they opened up to let him in. He swallowed Cas’s little gasp, the quiet groan in the back of his throat, as he started to explore his mouth with his tongue.  

 

_ And fuck, it felt incredible.  _ The way Cas timidly responded before he kissed him back with desperation and fervor. Dean couldn’t suppress his own groan. It felt like an electrical current was running through his whole body. Had kissing someone always felt this way? 

 

He knew the answer to that, but refused to admit it to himself. 

 

Their bodies slid closer, Cas’s fingers were in his hair, his other hand against his throat. Dean felt too hot in his clothes, his heart raced, stumbling every time Cas swiped his tongue over his. 

 

Dean’s hips moved on instinct, rocking into Cas’s body when he suddenly felt the hard erection of his friend pressed against him.

 

And that’s when the panic kicked in. This was too much, too fast. Kissing was one thing, but this?  _ No way! _

 

He pushed Cas off without thinking, panting, totally out of breath. It felt like he wasn’t getting enough air, like his chest was constricting. Dean pressed his palm against Cas’s chest so he wouldn’t come close again, as he tried to catch his breath. He felt dizzy, confused, like the walls were coming down on him. He had to get out of there. 

 

He scrambled from the bed, pressing out a tight, “I'm sorry,” before he ran outside, slamming the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

There was panic and grief. A lot of it. Cas sat there, staring after the closed door that Dean darted out of. He had felt the onslaught of his panic as it was happening, but was too content in the sensation of being kissed so thoroughly, so perfectly. He should have known better. The curse was constantly forcing him to react with his most basest instincts. 

 

However false his affection for Dean was, it felt real. It hurt, it helped, whatever else poets of the eighteenth century denoted of the effects of basically what amounted to a chemical reaction in a human being’s brain. Cas could feel  _ all  _ of it, to the point that his behavior grew selfish. Not even trying to take into account Dean’s feelings. Dean’s non-feelings.

 

He’d upset him again and a wave of nausea struck, his stomach lurched in protest. He was going to vomit. Cas scrambled from the bed and barely made it in time to the toilet. It was mostly liquid and after a few dry heaves, he collapsed against the wall. Drawing his knees up, Cas leaned his head against his arms, hunched over his knees.

 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” he kept repeating to himself in a mantra. What had he been thinking? Why was he so selfish? Even if Dean  _ could  _ reciprocate his feelings, Cas didn’t deserve them. He would  _ never  _ deserve them.

 

How could a human being, the righteous man, a soul as beautiful as Dean’s? How could someone so magnanimous ever love a creature like Castiel? He had betrayed them so often. Keeping secrets. Saying yes to Lucifer. Had almost been the cause of the end of the world on multiple occasions...

 

He was a despicable creature and deserved nothing. Worse than nothing. Determined, Cas got up and made his way back out into the main room. Initially he hadn’t been certain as to what he intended to do, but when he saw the silver of his angel blade, Cas knew what he needed to do.

 

Cas had upset Dean, to the point he had to depart. Contrition was needed. He grabbed the cold metal, fingers gliding over it with a steely determination. With a deep breath, he gripped the weapon and without hesitation, pushed the blade into his forearm, going right through. 

 

The pain of the blade hurt less than the ache in his heart. The blood dripping to the floor horrifying and satisfying all at the same time. This was what he deserved. Nothing less. Cas closed his eyes and focused in on the pain from the injury, withdrawing it slowly before switching hands and plunging it into his other arm.

 

“Cas!” Dean was suddenly standing in the open door, a horrified expression on his face, before he sprinted towards him, pulling his angel blade away from him. “Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so… fuck, Cas.”

 

He shook his head in confusion as the tears started to fall. “No. Please don’t apologize. It’s my fault, I… Oh, Dean. I’m sorry.”

 

Dean shook his head, his hands cupping his face. “I shouldn't have left you alone. I fucked up. Oh, fuck. Can you heal this? What can I do?" He sounded desperate and sick with worry.

 

And that just made Cas feel worse. His hands itched to grab ahold of his blade to punish himself for first upsetting his friend from affection he did not want and then to worry him shortly after with his self-harm. He was despicable. Cas shook his head. “I’m sorry, I cannot heal myself. Wounds to our person from a weapon designed to hurt angels cannot be self-healed.”

 

“Shit.” Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. “Can you wait a minute? I’ll get the first aid kit from the trunk.” Dean grabbed Cas’s angel blade and added, “I’m taking this with me, alright?”

 

Cas nodded. “Probably a wise decision.”

 

When Dean disappeared for the few minutes, the compounding of his own grief combined with Dean’s concern was gripping his heart, a vice-like grip that was making it difficult to take in air. Cas didn’t deserve his friend’s concern. He didn’t deserve to have anything good or painless.

 

As he frantically searched for any item in the room that could cause more damage, Dean came barrelling in through the door. His arms full with not only the first aid supplies, but a set of different clothes. “Take your shirt off.” 

 

Cas obeyed, moving in a trance like state, wincing in pain every time he moved his arms. After he finished unbuttoning his shirt, he draped it over the chair he moved to sit in. Dean knelt in front of him, starting to clean his wounds with a piece of cloth that felt wet and burned slightly where it came in contact with his lacerations. Dean had a concentrated look on his face while he treated his wound, looking up at him with a sad expression when he was finished. “I'm so sorry. I promise I will  _ never  _ leave you again.”

 

It pained Cas with regret to feel the sadness coming from Dean. “I'm sorry I keep hurting you.”

 

“I'm the one who fucked up here, Cas. This isn't your fault.” Dean shook his head and grabbed Cas’s hands, intertwining their fingers. “I know I have these…. issues. But you shouldn't be the one suffering because of my stupid hang-ups. What can I do to make you feel better?”

 

Cas shook his head. “You've done more than enough. I think I need to lie down.” As he moved to stand, he swayed slightly, head reeling from all of the different emotions and sensations.

 

Dean helped him into the bed, Cas giving him a grateful smile that turned wince when he felt another rush of concern from Dean. He handed him one of his t-shirts. “Here put this on, I’ll just go to the bathroom for a sec. Be back with you in no time, alright?”

 

Cas shrugged the shirt on and shucked off his slacks. He'd seen Sam and Dean sleep in their underwear, so it was likely normal. The pain in his arms caused him to hiss a little with the movement. 

 

Dean didn't close the door to the bathroom, he just washed his hands before he came back to the bed, worried look still on his face. "Are you tired?"

 

“Incredibly.” He curled up on the bed, wrapping his arm around the pillow, trying not to wince from the pain. “I don't like this, Dean.” 

 

He felt the mattress dip behind him as Dean laid down next to him, putting his arm around him. "C'mere, Cas."

 

As Cas was gently pulled flush up against Dean, he let out a sigh; the contact quieting the din of the emotions. “This curse is so strange…”

 

“That’s one word for it,” Dean mumbled, burying his face in Cas’s hair before he inhaled deeply. “I can’t lose you to this. I can’t lose you, period.”

 

“The irony of your statement would be amusing if it wasn't depressing.”

 

Dean tensed up a bit, shifting next to him to look at Cas, “What do you mean?”

 

Cas let out a sigh, unsure if he should be candid. At least he wasn't facing Dean. “If I don't get cured of this curse, how long before you get fed up with my behavior? Kissing you against your inclinations and without your consent half the time… How long before you and I have to part for your own sanity?”

 

Dean used the hand he had lazily thrown over Cas's arm to rub over his own face, before he laid it back on him, the pad of his thumb caressing over Cas's arm. “Cas. I know I’ve got problems. Sam already chewed me out about it, but this curse will not destroy our friendship. I won't let it. No matter how long it’ll take or how often you feel like kissing me – in the end, it doesn't matter. We’ll get through this, you know how stubborn I can be. We'll beat this."

 

How he wished he had the luxury of not being able to feel what Dean was feeling. He felt determination, he felt concern, but there was also a confusion and reticence coming from his friend. Cas hated emotions and in that moment he would have given anything to revert back to how he was when he first came to Earth. “If we can't, thank you for showing me what friendship and family really was.”

 

“Stow the hallmark, Cas. We survived worse than this stupid curse. You didn’t survive Purgatory just so an ugly pendant can snuff you,” Dean answered roughly, pulling Cas closer to his body.

 

Cas chuckled sadly. “Death wouldn't be the worst outcome of this curse…”

 

Dean flicked his arm with his finger. "Don't say that. What could be worse than that?"

 

“Feeling like this for the rest of my life without reciprocity.” Of all of the tortures Cas had suffered through in his lifetime, this level of emotion was definitely comparable. Perhaps even more so.

 

"It's not going to happen. As soon as we break the curse you'll be back to not feeling a thing for me anymore." Dean tried to reassure him, before he carded his fingers through Cas's hair.

 

Cas pulled Dean’s arm that was resting on his side close to his chest. “And what if we can’t break the curse?”

 

Dean hesitated for a moment, he could feel him tensing up before he shook his head slightly. “We will.”

 

Unable to stop himself, Cas let out an annoyed huff. “Your optimism is annoying.”

 

Dean chuckled quietly. "More determination and stubbornness than optimism…” He shifted on the bed, burying his face in Cas’s hair again as he pulled him tighter. “Cas... I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

 

Subtleties in language had never been his forte, but Dean’s repetitiveness had Cas questioning the underlying meaning. Cas moved to lay on his back, now making eye contact with Dean. “What are you trying to say, Dean?”

 

Dean looked away for a moment before he murmured, "Sam said the curse will be deadly eventually." Dean grabbed Cas’s hand, squeezing it before he looked back at him. "But I'm not going to let that happen."

 

“How eventually?” He wasn’t angry, or frightened, so his tone came out more resigned than anything.  _ Of course  _ that would be the repercussions of this particular love curse.

 

“A week. But, Cas... Sam and Mick are already working on a solution. They’ve already found out about the spell and we  _ will  _ save you. You just have to trust me on this, hold on a bit longer.”

 

Cas shook his head and snorted in derision. One week. One week to find the cure. If there even was one… “How will I die?”

 

“Sam said you’d kill yourself. But I’ve hidden your blade, so that isn’t going to happen. I mean, you’re an angel. There isn’t much that can kill you, so I hope that works in our favor. I’ll try to keep you happy for as long as it takes them to find the witch and we should be good.” Dean explained to him quickly, his eyes wide with concern and desperation.

 

It was all becoming too much. Cas moved to roll away from Dean again. He really felt tired. Too tired for discussing his fate. Happiness felt too far away to be plausible.

 

"Cas, hey." Dean carefully grabbed his arm to keep him in place and urged, "Don't shut me out. Come on… I know I didn’t handle it well before, but I’m really trying here. I just need some time to get used to being… physically close to another man. But it’s getting better… What happened before, me running out like that… I’m not going to do that again, I promise.”

 

“I’m not upset with you for that. You shouldn’t even have to be coddling me like a child.” 

 

"And you shouldn't have to suffer from an evil love curse, so deal with my coddling," Dean quipped, brow quirked. “So, come on. Back in my arms with you."

 

Cas shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re infuriating, Dean Winchester.”

 

“It’s my middle name.” Dean grinned back, spreading his arms in an inviting gesture.

 

Without hesitation, he slid in closer to Dean, leaning his head against the man’s chest as he snaked his arm over Dean’s torso. “You’re surprisingly affectionate when you’re comfortable with it.”

 

Dean seemed to be thoughtful after his statement, rubbing his fingers in a circling motion over Cas's arm, probably an unconscious movement while he was thinking about something. When he started to talk again, his voice was quiet, "I like being close to other people. I didn't have that a lot when I grew up or later in my life, cuz I've never really had a long lasting relationship with anyone. But yeah, this is nice. It feels nice to be able to do this, you know?”

 

The pang of sadness was subtle, but still there. Cas tightened his grip around Dean. “You deserve so much better than what has happened to you in your short life. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the part I played in that.”

 

"I know, Cas. Water under the bridge. And you know what? I'm quite happy at the moment with my life. I mean, apart from the stupid curse, obviously. But we’ll get through this, too." Dean's fingers found their way into Cas's hair again, a sensation that was slowly becoming addictive. "I mean, the world isn't ending for a change. I got mom back, I got Sam, I got you." He chuckled. "How many people can say they have an angel as a best friend? That's pretty awesome."

 

Cas tried to stifle a yawn as he answered, “You’d actually be surprised how many angels developed friendships with humans…”

 

"But I’ve got the best one," Dean alleged before he nuzzled his nose into Cas's hair tiredly.

 

“I have a list of people and angels who would disagree with you on that.” Cas chuckled.

 

Dean made a dismissive noise as he countered, "What do they know? Haven't seen them lining up, sacrificing everything to save the world."

 

He could argue with Dean until he was blue in the face, but he really did feel tired. The sensation was causing him to yawn again. 

 

He felt Dean kiss the top of his head. "You should sleep. I’ll watch over you for a change."

 

“Someone once told me that’s creepy,” he teased, his heart swelling at Dean’s words. Contentment now drowning out the negative emotions.

 

He felt Dean's chuckle reverberating against his body. "It is, but you have no right to complain."

 

Castiel was presently cuddled up on a bed in the arms of Dean Winchester. No. He really didn’t have the right to complain.

 

* * *

 

Dean felt pleasantly warm and relaxed when he woke up the next morning. He knew that feeling meant he wasn’t sleeping alone, he had someone in bed with him. In between sleep and awakeness, not many thoughts made sense yet, but his instincts told him to embrace this warmth, to pull it closer and never let it go.

 

There was something soft tickling at his nose and he buried his face in the sensation, taking in the smell of fresh morning air with faint traces of something sweet, maybe honey. Dean hummed into the nice feeling, wanting to stay like this forever.

 

But awareness was insistently scratching at the edge of his mind, trying to wake him up and face the day. “Don’t wanna get up,” he mumbled into the softness.

 

“Then don’t,” the warmth he was cuddled into practically growled.

 

That actually worked to instantly kill the fogginess in his brain as he opened his eyes in surprise, before he remembered that – _oh, yeah,_ he fell asleep with Cas in his arms. That _did_ happen. And the stupid curse hadn’t been a nightmare. “Um… good morning, Sunshine.” _So much for being awake. Seriously? He had to use pet names with Cas?_

 

Cas chuckled as he turned over to face him. Dean had somehow ended up being the big spoon in their impromptu cuddle session. “Morning,” he greeted, eyes blinking his sleepiness away.

 

Dean couldn’t suppress a smile as he took in Cas’s sleepy expression, the lines on his face from where his cheek became one with the pillow, and his totally messed up hair. “Did you sleep okay?”

 

“I feel less tired, so I suppose, yes?” he murmured, clearly unsure how to answer the question.

 

“Did you dream anything?”

 

Cas nodded. “Yes. Thankfully it was more humorous than horrifying, unlike the last one.”

 

Dean hated the fact that Cas experienced nightmares. Not that it was surprising with the life they led, but still… He shook his head slightly, trying not to think about why he felt so weirdly protective of Cas all the time. “Humorous?”

 

His line of questioning earned him a grin as Cas answered, “Very much so. Sam was turned into an actual moose and the majority of the dream was you attempting to get him to not chew on belongings in the bunker…”

 

Of course as soon as the words had left Cas’s mouth Dean couldn’t help but picture it. He couldn’t stop laughing for almost five minutes straight. “I can totally see that,” he pressed out between bouts of laughter.

 

“You know, interestingly enough, he was  _ less  _ clumsy as a moose.” Cas hummed thoughtfully.

 

That just prolonged his laughing fit. Dean pressed his face into Cas’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath. “You’re killing me.” 

 

Cas carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “You have a really nice laugh, Dean.”

 

Dean tensed for a moment, as he remembered their situation. He wondered if he was making things easier for Cas, being affectionate with him, or actually worse. He looked up at his friend, trying to see how he was feeling. It wasn’t always easy with Cas. He was pretty good at hiding his feelings. Seriously, if Dean could teach Cas how to play poker, they would probably be sitting on a gold mine. Rain Man status goldmine. “Cas?”

 

“Yes?” he sounded a little more resigned than before. He was probably able to feel Dean’s curiosity and was mistaking it for… well, his usual MO of freaking out.

 

He touched Cas’s shoulder softly, rubbing his thumb over it as he thought about how to ask his question. Upfront was probably the best. “Does it help when I’m physically affectionate with you, or is it the opposite?”

 

Cas appeared contemplative for a moment, lips quirked to the side, before he finally answered, “I’m honestly not sure. I mean, when you feel content and happy, I feel it, too. When you touch me, it quiets the emotions and makes everything more bearable. So… I suppose it  _ does  _ help. But if it becomes too much for you and I start to feel your discomfort, or fear… To go from one extreme to the other is almost worse. Does that make sense?”

 

“So basically, touching is good as long as I feel comfortable with it?” Dean summed up with a questioning glance.

 

“I suppose?” he replied in kind.

 

Dean wrapped his fingers around Cas’s hand. “What do you mean by ‘more bearable’?”

 

Cas shied away, looking down at their entwined hands as he took a deep breath. He exhaled softly with a reticent sounding, “I don’t want to put anymore pressure on you. You’re prone to guilt enough as it is.”

 

“Cas, please. I need to know what’s going on, otherwise I can’t help you. I want to make this as easy for you as possible and the last thing I wanna do is hurt you accidentally just cuz I didn’t know any better.” He squeezed his hand. “If hand holding, or cuddling, makes you feel less like you wanna hurt yourself... I can do that.” 

 

“It does. But every time you have trouble with the affection, it's worse and I… I'd almost prefer you  _ not  _ touch me if you're going to struggle with it. Which I don't blame you. I know you aren't comfortable with same sex affection and attraction and I really don't blame you for your response.”

 

Dean nodded towards their intertwined hands. “Not gonna lie, it was pretty weird at first, but I don’t feel like that at the moment. I think I just needed some time to get used to it.”

 

Cas smiled. “If it helps, my true form is technically genderless…”

 

Dean chuckled. “But if I cuddled your trueform, I’d probably be dead by now.”

 

“Technically you did when I raised you from perdition,” he murmured as he laid his head on Dean’s shoulder.

 

Dean carded his fingers through Cas’s hair, trying to get some order in that chaos, but his hair seemed to have Cas’s stubbornness. “Is that why I had your handprint on my shoulder?”

 

He could feel Cas tense. “I hadn't realized it would remain after I got you out.”

 

Dean pulled him closer, trying to reassure him, “It’s okay. It looked rather badass for a while.” He didn’t mention that it was hard to explain to the ladies.

 

“I'm sure it drew difficult to answer questions.”

 

“Yeah, well... Couldn’t exactly say an angel left his little paw print on me rescuing me from Hell.”

 

Cas drew back, feigning confusion by the smirk on his face, as he asked, “So, you’re telling me normal people wouldn’t understand?”

 

Taking in Cas’s smile that lit up his blue eyes, the way sleeping had rumpled his best friend’s appearance and how human and approachable he looked in that moment, Dean felt an overwhelming urge to lean over and kiss him. The fact that Cas would let him didn’t make his restraint any easier. Instead, he busied himself again with another futile attempt to straighten Cas’s hair. “You’d be surprised how fast I’d be in a psych ward.”

 

“Silly humans. Start talking about angels, and demons, and witches, ghosts… You’re so ready to lock each other up over it,” he teased.

 

Dean nodded slowly with a smile. “Sometimes I wish Sam and I still belonged to those silly humans, not knowing what’s out there. On the other hand, the world would have ended and then I never would’ve met you.”

 

Cas moved to lean over Dean, cupping the side of his face with one hand. “While I regret the life you and your brother have had to live, this world needs you and I cannot bring myself to wish that sort of life for you. You and Sam singlehandedly saved thousands of lives, Dean. You’re the best parts of humanity and while I can hope that one day you can live the normal life you deserve, free of hunting… I’m among the many lives you’ve saved and one that is incredibly grateful for your existence.”

 

“Cas…” For a moment Dean didn’t know what to say, as he got lost in Cas’s sincere blue eyes. He gave him a quick, sad smile. “Well, then it’s good you saved my sorry ass and stayed by my side. Cuz I know I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

 

He felt the tension between them rising, his heartbeat quickened when Cas’s eyes fell on Dean’s lips for a moment.

 

“All I want to do is kiss you right now,” Cas breathed out, seemingly startled by his own admission.

 

All Dean wanted was to give in. But he’d be lying if he said that didn’t scare the ever loving shit out of him. He nodded slowly, his breathing hitched just at the thought of kissing Cas again.

 

Cas gently swiped the pad of his thumb over Dean’s bottom lip, eyes searching his face. For what, Dean couldn’t be sure. With the barest hint of hesitation, Cas closed the gap between them. While the guy obviously wasn’t an experienced kisser, he kissed with everything he possessed, and that was dizzying in and of itself. Dean could actually  _ feel  _ the love emanating from Cas by the touch of their lips. It felt overwhelming. He just didn’t know if it was a good or a bad overwhelming.

 

Dean slid his fingers through Cas’s hair, trying to ground himself by reminding him that this was his best friend. His best friend that needed this. But he still felt confused about the fact that kissing Cas started to feel… less weird and more… nice.

 

Dean carefully pulled away from the kiss, trying to catch his breath. “Okay… we should stop.”

 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he panted, shaking his head slightly.

 

Dean cupped Cas’s cheek, quickly shaking his head. “No, everything’s fine. I just want to take this one step at a time, okay? Maybe we should do something together, instead of being cooped up in the room. Distract ourselves from the stupid curse, what do you think?”

 

Cas nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. The further away we are from a bed, the better…”

 

Dean tapped Cas’s nose playfully. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

 

With a tired sigh, Cas fell back against his pillow and draped his forearm over his face. “This whole stupid thing would be so much easier if you were inclined to homosexual tendencies.”

 

Dean snorted and shook his head. “Or if you had a female vessel. On the other hand, I probably would’ve hit on you the first day we met and I don’t think that would have worked out while saving the world.”

 

Cas raised his arm slightly to look at Dean and deadpanned, “Are you telling me stabbing me in the chest with a knife is not a traditional method of human courtship?”

 

“Sorry to burst your bubble, buddy.” Dean grinned, sliding his hand over Cas’s arm. “What would you say to breakfast and a walk in the park?”

 

“That sounds nice. It’s not often we get to take in the more scenic aspects of places we visit.”

 

“Or like ever,” Dean murmured. “You know, for what it’s worth, I’m glad we get to spend some time together.”

 

Cas laughed. “You’re a terrible liar, Dean.”

 

Dean was taken aback by that, he had genuinely meant that. He wondered why Cas had the impression he wasn’t enjoying spending time with him. He put his hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Cas, I mean it. I like spending time with you. We don’t get to do it very often. The circumstances could be better, but seriously… it’s nice having some time together.”

 

“I’m sure you’d enjoy yourself more if you didn’t have to keep your guard up around me considering this curse’s effects…”

 

“I would enjoy it more if you wouldn’t get troubled by my stupid hangups.” Dean let his hand slide down Cas’s arm and intertwined their fingers. “The last thing I want is to make your situation worse.”

 

Cas regarded Dean for a moment, as though he were trying to solve a puzzle. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Go for it.”

 

“Last night… before you got upset, I felt your response to what we were doing…” he paused for a moment, as though trying to formulate his words. “I'm just going to ask it; are you attracted to men as well?”

 

_ Oh, fuck. _ Dean hoped Cas hadn’t noticed that. He didn’t have the first clue of how to explain it to Cas, since he didn’t even really understand it himself. He slowly shook his head. “I… I don’t think so. If I’m honest here I… I was surprised by my reaction as well. I can tell when another man is attractive, but I never felt the urge to… do anything about it.”

 

“I see. So, your reaction was merely a physiological response due to stimuli?” His tone was genuinely curious, no hint of sarcasm or skepticism.

 

“I guess.” Dean shrugged. “I’ve never done anything like this before… kissing another man. Maybe it’s just something that happens. And you aren’t bad looking… and I… um… I should stop talking now.”

 

Cas chuckled. “I'm sorry I brought it up, I was curious. Thank you for telling me.”

 

Dean scratched the back of his head. “Look, Cas. That’s just another reason I’m treading carefully here. I’ll be honest, okay? Kissing you… it didn’t feel bad. But we’re best friends and this isn’t the sorta stuff we should do as best friends. Your feelings for me aren’t real and as soon as we break the curse, you won’t have them anymore. So I don’t want us to overstep too many boundaries, just cuz you feel like this at the moment and I might be curious.”

 

“I understand, Dean. Even though I harbored a physical attraction to you prior to the curse, I knew then that nothing could come of it.”

 

“You did what now?” 

 

Cas shrugged as though he didn't drop a huge bombshell thirty seconds ago. “I've found you sexually appealing for many years now. It's likely why I struggle with personal space in regards to you.”

 

Dean stared at him. He couldn’t believe Cas had actually just said that.

 

“I've made you uncomfortable, haven't I?”

 

“No…. I’m not at ‘uncomfortable’ yet, still at trying to process that you just said that… Okay, let me get this straight… You didn’t have feelings for me, right? It was just a physical attraction?” 

 

Cas tilted his head as he appeared to think about his response. “I’m not entirely sure. Any affection I had for you was nowhere near this level of intensity, so perhaps not...”

 

Dean felt a mixture of relief and something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It felt a bit like disappointment, but that didn’t make any sense. He tried to resolve the situation with humor as he said, “Well, don’t worry. A lot of people like me for my body.” He winked at Cas with a grin.

 

He hadn’t expected the outright bark of laughter from Cas. “You understand my attraction to you has nothing to do with your body?”

 

“Um,“ Dean murmured slowly. No, he hadn’t understood that. “What else is there?”

 

Cas smiled. “Your soul,” he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

For a moment Dean looked down at himself as if there was something to see. He didn’t even know Cas could  _ see  _ his soul. “I thought that old thing got all tainted when I took the Mark.”

 

“Souls can have scars, they can be burned and broken, but that doesn’t change them. In fact, souls that have withstood the sort of torment yours and your brother’s have, tend to shine that much brighter.”

 

That was actually nice to hear for a change. He gave Cas a soft smile before he leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Thanks. I think I needed to hear that.”

 

Cas gently stroked the side of Dean’s face. “See? Beautiful.”

 

“In reality, you just like my freckles, be honest.” Dean grinned, trying not to feel uncomfortable with the compliment and the way Cas was looking at him, like he had invented every star in the universe. He didn’t deserve that look.

 

The way his lips tilted up on one side when he smiled was kind of endearing. Cas quirked his brow. “Maybe I’m just admiring my own work…”

 

For a moment Dean was confused, but then he realized what Cas was saying. He had never really thought about it before. “Your work? Like when you restored my body after you saved me from Hell?”

 

Cas chuckled. “Don’t you humans have a saying about the origins of freckles?”

 

Dean snorted and shook his head. “So, you’re saying you kissed every freckle back on my face? Maybe I should check if there are more freckles than before I died.”

 

“Those ones aren’t on your  _ face,”  _ he quipped with a smirk. 

 

“Oh?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “Where could they be, I wonder...”

 

Cas couldn’t contain himself any longer as he burst into laughter. Wiping the mirth from his eyes, he said, “You bring out the worst in me, Dean Winchester.”

 

Dean shrugged with a smile, loving how relaxed and happy Cas seemed in that moment. “I happen to be very proud of the outcome.”

 

“You would.” Cas moved to stretch, the borrowed t-shirt riding up his torso, so much so Dean could see his tattoo. He propped his elbows, leaning up to look Dean more in the face. “So, where did you want to get breakfast?”

 

“Huh?” Dean asked, still looking at Cas’s tattoo.

 

Cas rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face indicated his lack of annoyance. “For a man who doesn’t find his own gender attractive, you get easily distracted by the male form.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s not that…” Even in his own ears it sounded too defensive and petulant. “It’s your tattoo.”

 

“I see.” Cas’s tone was amused. “So, breakfast?”

 

“Yeah, I’m pretty hungry. We could just hit the road and see what we find.”

 

* * *

 

After having a nice breakfast at a local cafe not too far from their motel, on the British Men of Letter’s dime according to Dean, they found their way to one of the more quaint parks in the area. It was far less crowded than the more tourist driven locations. Replete with several kinds of trees and wildflowers as far as the eye could see.

 

Cas had felt a sense of calm, being surrounded by so many flowers and in turn, several bees. As they walked a dirt path through the park, his hand itched to grasp Dean’s. It was one thing to be affectionate with the man behind closed doors, but quite another to do so in a public setting.

 

He was content to spare quick glances at his face. Dean was quite breathtaking, on a profoundly human level, too. Cas hadn't been lying when he said his attraction to the man stemmed from the awe-inspiring beauty of his soul, but after years on Earth, he had learned to appreciate certain physical forms.

 

Dean Winchester was the epitome of ruggedly handsome, with a face the Greeks likely would have wept over. There was a pang of sadness lingering at the back of his mind, a loss for what could never be between them. With or without a love curse. While his love for Dean was only temporary, Cas knew what he experienced would undoubtedly affect him. He just wasn't sure how.

 

When they reached an area of the park alongside a large pond, Cas noticed a family of ducks near the water’s edge. He smiled at Dean and approached them. Ducks like this were often acclimated to humans, but even if they weren't, Cas was an angel of the lord. He knelt down and laid out his palm as one of the ducklings waddled into his hand.

 

Dean’s shocked expression was worth it. He smiled up at him. “Would you like to hold her?”

 

“Um… yes. You think that’s okay?” 

 

Cas touched her head and used his grace to instill a sense of calm in her. He held his hand out to Dean. “Just be gentle.”

 

Dean had an almost child like expression of awe on his face as he carefully reached out to take the animal. “It’s so soft.”

 

“She,” he corrected. The genuine pleasure on Dean’s face was causing Cas's heart to swell with love. “She likes being rubbed just under her bill.”

 

Dean rubbed his index finger under her bill, smiling from ear to ear. “Look,” he whispered. “She’s closing her eyes.”

 

Cas stepped slowly next to him and peered down at the duckling. “She likes you.”

 

“How can you tell?” Dean asked, still whispering.

 

“I can feel it. She's emanating a happiness.” 

 

Dean looked up at him. “Can you feel that with all animals? Like Dr. Dolittle?”

 

Cas chuckled. “Not quite to the same extent, but yes.”

 

Dean slowly shook his head in apparent awe. “That’s so awesome. Why didn’t I know that about you?”

 

“You never asked…” Cas stated casually. It wasn't something usually brought up in conversation. 

 

Dean seemed thoughtful after that, slowly setting the duckling back on the ground again. “It’s strange. There’s so much I don’t know about you. I mean–” Dean rubbed his hand over his face. “Next to Sam you’re the most important person in my life and I don’t even know if you have a favorite color. I just feel like I should know those things. They may not seem important in our daily fights, saving the world or whatever, but it’s those little things, you know, things we like – holding a duckling – that makes this all worth living, worth fighting for.”

 

No truer words had ever been spoken. It was the little things, the simplistic beauty of it all, that they were trying to preserve. Cas nodded and gave him a soft smile. “Green,” he said simply.

 

“Any particular reason?” Dean asked curiously before he looked around, squinting at the sunlight.

 

“It's the eye color of my favorite human,” he answered, smile tugging at his lips.

 

Dean looked back at him with an appraising expression. “Is that the curse talking?”

 

Cas shook his head. “No. That’s always been my favorite color for that reason.”

 

Dean walked up to him, a small smile playing around his his lips. “I thought you just found my soul attractive.”

 

With an exaggerated sigh, Cas muttered, “Fine. I like your soul. And your eyes…” 

 

Dean stepped closer, so close that he could feel his breath on his skin. His smile was almost predatory. "And?"

 

That surprised Cas. He really enjoyed when Dean flirted with him and the curse only worsened that appreciation. He smirked as he countered, “Wouldn’t  _ you  _ like to know?”

 

Dean grinned. "I bet you fell for my boyish charm and freckles. I recently learned they were made by an angel. Doesn't that make me special?"

 

Cas patted Dean’s head and rolled his eyes. “Oh, so special…”

 

“You know what? For someone under a love spell, you're still pretty sarcastic. You should’ve seen Sam when he wanted to marry Becky,” Dean complained playfully.

 

“Yes. It’s interesting. Other than the emotions I feel for you and from you, and the kind of scary obsessiveness, I still feel like myself.” Cas sighed. He wondered what that meant. Was it to make the sufferer of the curse maybe not realize they had been cursed? Or maybe it was more to make them really feel as though they were going insane. Either way, it was a pretty interesting effect.

 

Dean patted his shoulder. “The sarcasm is strong with this one,” he said in a breathy, dark voice. “Nothing a curse can do about it.”

 

“Being stuck with you and Sam for the past few years has really had its effect on me.” 

 

Dean flicked his shoulder with a smile. “And I couldn't be more proud… You wanna walk around the pond?”

 

Cas nodded. He was enjoying the distraction of being outside. Again as they started their walk, Cas’s hand itched to reach out for Dean’s.  _ Well, so much for the distraction.  _ He rifled a hand through his hair and let out an aggravated sigh. Cas stepped away from Dean and moved to sit at one of the benches that lined the waterfront. 

 

“You okay?” Dean asked, concern latched to his voice as he sat down next to him.

 

“Every time I think I’m feeling almost normal. Like myself again, I’m instantly reminded of this damn curse.” He sighed and leaned forward, bracing his elbows against his knees.

 

After a moment Dean asked carefully, “What reminded you?”

 

He didn’t want to say. He didn’t want to tell Dean that he wanted to hold his hand and see the sympathetic smile, and force his friend into a guilt-driven attempt to help. Cas didn’t want Dean to hold his hand or kiss him because it was his heroic duty. Cas wanted him to hold his hand because Dean  _ wanted  _ to. 

 

Cas rubbed his chin and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter…”

 

He didn't expect Dean to wrap his arm around his shoulder and pull him into a hug, resting his chin on Cas's shoulder. "I wish I could just take this stupid curse from you. Do you think it's too late for me to learn magic?"

 

Cas chuckled. “I think, either way, you should probably just stick to shooting things.”

 

“I seriously wanna shoot that witch. She’s lucky Sam’s on her ruby red heels instead of me,” Dean murmured as he pulled Cas closer.

 

“I can’t seem to figure out if your protectiveness is endearing or frustrating,” he murmured as he craned his neck to look up at Dean.

 

Dean tilted his head and smirked. “Should you really be one to judge that?”

 

Cas rolled his eyes and knocked his shoulder into Dean’s. “Yes, but you see, I’m an angel. Your protectiveness almost seems silly. It’s like a mouse wanting to protect a lion.” To punctuate his meaning, Cas gave Dean a wink.

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. "A mouse that saved your stupid ass a few times, if I recall correctly."

 

“And for that, I thank you,” he teased. His gratefulness for Dean helping him become distracted again was immediately tainted by the way Dean’s eyes sparkled in amusement. Now Cas wanted nothing more than to kiss the man next to him.  _ Stupid curse. _

 

“Not bad for a mouse, huh?” Dean winked.

 

Cas put his hand on Dean’s face and pushed him away. “Okay, you officially need to stop doing that.”

 

Dean leaned back and blinked at him. “Doing what?”

 

“You and I both know you aren’t stupid, Dean.” He sighed as he placed his face in his palms.

 

Dean sighed deeply before he wrapped his fingers around Cas's wrist. "Let's keep walking. I can't stand seeing you sad. I swear you're worse than Sam with your forlorn, puppy-eye look."

 

“Did you just say ‘forlorn’?” Cas joked as he allowed himself to be pulled into a standing position. He stumbled slightly and when Dean’s hands went to his waist to steady him, Cas inhaled sharply at the contact. He braced his hands on the man’s shoulders and felt an overwhelming rush of different emotions. Affection, desire, love, lust… You name it, he probably felt it in that moment.

 

“Hey! I know words...” Dean chuckled as he took one of Cas’s hands from his shoulder and intertwined their fingers. “Come on, tiger.”

 

“Lion,” he corrected, trying to not get light-headed over the contact. Dean was holding his hand.  _ In public. _

 

Dean rubbed his thumb over the back of Cas’s hand. “Big, fluffy cat. Got it.”

 

Cas chuckled, feeling incredibly content in that moment. As they continued their walk through the park, Dean never once let go of his hand. Not even when a couple of people on roller skates rode by them. He would have expected Dean to drop his hand at the prospect of other people seeing them. Cas couldn’t help but smile over being proven wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 

“Okay. We have to do this!” Dean let himself fall on the edge of the bed next to Cas, excitedly waving the brochure he had found at the motel reception about touristy things they could do in the area. 

 

Cas didn’t react though, he was fast asleep, still buried under the blanket like a groundhog deep in hibernation. For a moment, the brochure in his hand was forgotten as Dean leaned over and carded his fingers through Cas’s hair. Hair that always seemed to show gravity the middle finger.

 

“Hey, Sunshine. Time to wake up,” he murmured softly. It was still weird to see Cas like this, so fragile and almost human. So vulnerable. Dean had always felt protective about his friends and family, but for some reason he felt overly protective now with Cas. It was absurd, Cas could damn well look after himself. But since the curse…

 

Cas still didn’t stir and a treacherous thought caught Dean out of nowhere.  _ I could kiss him awake. _

 

He shook his head at himself, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. He felt like an opportunistic asshole, using Cas’s condition to satisfy his curiosity, or in this case, his horniness, since his last good lay had been a long time ago. 

 

The past two days had been full of touches and a few shy kisses. Who was Dean trying to kid? This whole situation was building up to a level of sexual frustration that was seriously influencing him. Not to mention that he woke up with morning wood hard enough he could have used his dick to pound nails in a wall. He had to take care of it in the shower as soon as he woke up. But at least he didn’t freak out anymore with the physical contact. Now he was just freaking out about the fact that he actually  _ liked  _ it. 

 

It was wrong on so many levels, above all because Cas was his best friend. He tried to remember that Cas wouldn’t feel like this forever and what if Dean still wanted to kiss him after all that? Dean nearly paled at his own thought.  _ No, no, no.  _ That was  _ not  _ going to happen. They would just go back to being normal friends. This whole situation was just an exception. Something he would lock in the darkest room of his mind and throw the key away when it was all over.

 

Cas made a soft, sleepy sound, his lips parted slightly and  _ Ggggnnnnnnnn  _ – Dean really just wanted to feel those lips on his again. What happens in Savannah, Georgia stays in Savannah, Georgia, right?

 

“Cas?” he tried one last time, his voice was just above a whisper when he leaned over him. “If you don’t wake up now, I’ll have to kiss you awake.”

 

Cas made some sort of murmuring noise, but didn't wake up.

 

Well, that kind of decided it really. He had given Cas a fair warning. Dean leaned over and carefully brushed his lips over Cas’s in a soft kiss. "Cas?" he breathed against his angel's lips before he kissed him again, licking over his upper lip, carding his fingers through Cas's messy hair. He tried to ignore the fact that he thought of Cas as ‘his’ in his mind.

 

Cas let out a growl as he snaked his arm around Dean’s neck and deepened the kiss. When an insistent tongue tapped at Dean’s lips, he couldn’t help but succumb.

 

_ Fuck. _ This felt really good. Without consciously thinking about it, Dean’s body seemed to move on its own, pressing closer against Cas as he slid his legs up onto the bed and half draped himself over the guy. Dean moaned into the kiss, licking over Cas's tongue and into his mouth as he pressed his body close. How could kissing someone feel so amazing? Not someone though... Cas. 

 

Cas, who was his best friend and currently cursed, his traitorous brain reminded him. And to make it even worse, his brain was also reminding him that he was taking advantage of his best friend.

 

Dean growled against Cas's lips, nipping at his upper lip before he leaned back, breathing heavily. "I just wanted to wake you up."

 

Cas’s breathing was ragged as he replied with a gravelly, “You succeeded.” Without giving Dean a chance to respond, Cas sucked Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth before diving in for another kiss.

 

Dean groaned at the sensation, for a moment totally forgetting about his resolution before he felt Cas's hips bucking against him. 

 

He made a hushing noise against Cas's lips, "Shh, baby, slow down."  _ Where the hell had that petname suddenly come from?  _ Jeez, that should have been his warning shot, but instead he succumbed to his desire a few more times, trying to stir the kisses to a less heated level and back to just comfort, but Cas clearly wasn't on the same page. With a heavy heart Dean drew back, bracing himself on his elbows and out of reach of Cas's lips. He sighed deeply. “Maybe we should get up. I found something awesome for us to do today that would be a nice distraction.”

 

Cas nodded dumbly, still trying to get control of his breathing from the way he was practically panting. Dean would be lying if he said knowing that he could instill that sort of visceral bodily reaction out of a creature like Cas didn’t fill him with a sense of pride. “You, uh… you should probably get off me, then.”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Of course, sorry...” Dean cursed himself for being so awkward as he untangled himself from Cas and stood up from the bed. “You’re okay, right?” Dean asked, feeling like an asshole now that he couldn’t control himself. He wanted to make Cas feel better, not confuse him even further.

 

“Yes, stop worrying,” he groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 

Dean winced as he remembered that Cas could feel his emotions. “Sorry,” he murmured again, wondering how he could stop worrying about Cas. It wasn’t easy. It was deeply ingrained in his character to worry about his family, especially when they were in danger. 

 

His gaze fell on the brochure and he smiled. Distraction was the answer here. He offered his hand to Cas. “Come on, I’ll get you a cup of sugar and then we’ll go on a touristy ghost tour. That’ll be fun.”

 

Cas chuckled. “You can't even take a normal break from your life as a hunter, can you?”

 

“Believe me, these tourist traps have nothing to do with the job. They just pretend a house is haunted. Those people don’t even believe in ghosts half the time.” Dean smiled when Cas took his hand, pulling him up from the bed, giving him a quick once over. “Before we go, you should take care of your… hair.”

 

“Is there something wrong with it?” he asked as he touched at his own locks.

 

“I wouldn’t say wrong. Just not suitable for the outside world.”  _ Very suitable for a bed though. _ Dean nearly rolled his eyes at his own thoughts. He thought taking care of his morning wood would have made him less horny. Clearly, he had underestimated the effect of his long dry-spell.

 

Cas released Dean’s hand and made his way to the bathroom. When he heard Cas outright laugh, he knew he'd seen his own reflection. “I don't understand how it's physically possible for hair to do this…” 

 

Dean chuckled, murmuring to himself, ”At least it looks sexy as fuck.”

 

“So, should I leave it alone?” he asked with a smirk as he poked his head out from the bathroom.

 

“Um,” Dean answered ineloquently, feeling embarrassed that Cas had heard him. “Not appropriate for outside. You look like you had sex all night.”

 

Cas chuckled. “I don't know, the one time I had sex, my hair didn't look quite this crazy…”

 

“I'm talking about a night full of wild, passionate sex, Cas. Not a one time thing with a bitch that killed you afterwards.” Dean still remembered how good it had felt to kill that reaper.

 

“A tryst ending with my death doesn't count as wild?” he quipped with an arched brow.

 

Dean shook his head, feeling a bit better about the whole thing seeing as Cas was making jokes about it. “Not the good kind of wild.” He gave Cas a long, thoughtful look. “Have you ever tried having sex again?”

 

“Do the people I had sex with when Lucifer was in possession of my body count?” That time he wasn't making a joke, he was seriously asking.

 

“No.” Dean closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about how fucked up that situation was. “Definitely not.”

 

“Then, no.”

 

Dean sat down at the table, starting to fill a cup with little sugar packets as he waited for Cas to get ready. “Any particular reason?”

 

As Cas came from the bathroom, his hair a little more tame and presentable, he shrugged. “It honestly never occurred to me. With the exception of you, there weren't many people I was drawn to sexually.”

 

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, still not used to hearing Cas admit stuff like that so openly and casually. And because he apparently hated himself, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “So, if I had hit on you, it would have worked?”

 

“Definitely. But then, you were always the exception for me…” He smiled down at the mug full of sugar. “You weren't kidding.”

 

Dean handed Cas the mug with a soft smile. “Course not.” He went quiet after that, thoughtful. Cas’s words resonating deep within him.  _ You were always the exception for me.  _

 

In many ways, that was also true for him. Dean didn’t trust easily, he didn't talk about his feelings, or open up; but with Cas… He trusted him unconditionally and he felt secure enough with him to talk about his problems, or feelings. There was no one else he had let in like that. Not even Lisa. 

 

And shouldn't you have that kind of trust in a relationship with someone you love, someone you are in a romantic relationship with? Cas was his exception. He was the only one in his life he could be himself around, with all of his weaknesses and faults. With Sam he was always playing the role of a big brother, always feeling the need to protect him, to be strong for Sam. But with Cas… he could just be Dean.

 

He had no idea what that meant on a deeper level. Just that he was incredibly grateful to have Cas in his life. Especially as he watched Cas lick the sugar crystals from the rim of his cup.

 

The guy had a talented tongue. Dean rubbed his palm over his face. How long had it been? Twenty seconds before his mind landed in the gutter again? He needed to have sex, as soon as possible!

 

Cas exhaled shakily as he placed his mug on the table. “That's a new feeling…”

 

“Mmmh?” 

 

Cas shook his head. “I can feel…” He looked at Dean in bemusement as he continued, “I can feel what you're feeling, Dean.”

 

Dean tried to make a mental list of all the things he had been feeling in the last few minutes. But since it had been a cocktail of a lot of things he still wasn’t sure what Cas was getting at. “Sorry. I hope it wasn't something uncomfortable. I can't really control this.”

 

“Not uncomfortable, no…”

 

“But?” Dean asked slowly.

 

“Sexual arousal is… it's bizarre to feel someone else’s.” He ducked his head in apparent embarrassment.

 

“More like sexual frustration,” Dean murmured before he leaned back against his chair. “I’m sorry you have to feel that, too. In addition to all the other shit that’s going on.”

 

Cas sighed. “I'm not sure why you're apologizing. I'm the one who's constantly invading your privacy.”

 

“But you aren’t doing it on purpose. I could, at least, try to not think about sex for a few hours. Hence why we should go on this ghost tour.” Dean pointed to the brochure. 

 

“I think that's a great idea.”

 

* * *

 

Dean had to bite his lower lip hard not to chuckle at the cheap tricks they used in the “haunted” mansion to scare the visitors on the tour. Their guide, an old sarcastic guy named Willy, discussed the history of the house with a dry sense of humor and entertaining drama in his voice. 

 

Dean glanced over at Cas, squeezing his hand, that he had been holding the whole time. He wasn't stupid, he knew that Cas needed this and this was something he felt comfortable doing.

 

“So, at what point does this get scary?” he whispered as he leaned in closer to Dean.

 

Dean smiled, reaching for the back of Cas’s neck to hold him in place as he whispered back, “As if you’d get scared of a ghost.”

 

The tour guide cleared his throat and asked, “And what would the young couple say is a good weapon against a ghost?”

 

When no one answered Dean looked around, realizing Willy had probably meant them when he met his expectant look. He pointed at himself and Cas with wide questioning eyes.

 

The older man nodded and Cas shrugged. “Anything with iron is a good weapon, so is a shotgun with rock salt shells.”

 

Willy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Um, yes. That would probably work… Anyway, back to the history of the house…”

 

Dean frowned as he tuned Willy’s history lesson out and exchanged a questioning look with Cas. He leaned over, whispering, “Strange reaction, right? I think we should have a word with good, old Willy after the tour.”

 

Cas tilted his head at Dean. “You found it suspicious?”

 

Dean nodded. “Just a gut feeling.” He grinned at Cas. “But I’m usually right about stuff like that.”

 

“I can’t argue that…” Cas responded with a shrug. As they continued to follow the tour at the back of the crowd, he leaned in and chuckled before he asked, “Why do you think he assumed we’re a couple?”

 

Dean lifted their intertwined hands and raised his eyebrow. “Probably because of this.”

 

Cas rolled his eyes and shook his head. “It’s kind of annoying how dumb ‘love’ appears to make me.”

 

Dean chuckled and pinched Cas’s cheek softly. “It’s okay, sweetcheeks. I bet you’re just distracted by my charm.” 

 

“That’s only true because I’m presently under a curse,” Cas deadpanned, eyebrow quirked in challenge.

 

Dean grinned, loving this banter between them. “We’ll see about that when you’re curse free.”

 

Cas leaned into Dean, his lips ghosting over the shell of Dean’s ear as he whispered, “Who’s to say you wouldn’t be distracted by  _ my  _ charm?”

 

The hair on the back of Dean’s neck rose as a shudder coursed through his body. He would be lying to himself if Cas’s deep voice and proximity wasn’t having an effect on him. He hoped the smile he was giving Cas didn’t look as insecure and awkward as he felt. Because now that he had started to think about the time after Cas was free from the curse, he caught himself wanting to continue their flirtatious banter. And the thought was confusing the hell out of him.

 

He was saved by the bell when Willy ended the tour and let their group explore the house on their own. Instead of following the others, Dean walked up to their tour guide with Cas in tow. “So, nice tour. Can I ask you a question, Willy?”

 

“Of course. I hope you liked the tour?” Willy asked carefully.

 

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “Let me cut to the chase here. I get the feeling you might have a real ghost problem and you’re looking for some hunters to fix it?”

 

“So, you  _ are  _ hunters. I was right?” Willy gave Cas a quick once over, as if he was assessing him. 

 

Dean didn’t like the way Willy looked at Cas, as if he wasn’t sure about him. “Yes, we are. So, tell us about your problem.”

 

Willy looked around, making sure they really were alone. “It’s not Lady Agathe who’s haunting this mansion. That’s just for the tourists.”

 

“Figured,” Dean deadpanned. “So who is it?”

 

Willy’s voice got quieter as he explained, “A year ago we had a murder in this house. An employee. She was killed by her girlfriend with a knife. I think it’s her. The ghost hasn’t done anything yet, just throwing things through the air. But I met a hunter a long time ago and he’d told me that eventually they could get violent.”

 

“Which hunter?” Dean asked curiously.

 

“Bobby Singer. It was many, many years ago. He was here to see if Lady Agathe was real.”

 

It was always strange for Dean to hear about Bobby. He missed him a lot and somehow… every time they met someone who knew Bobby, it felt like he was back with them. He smiled. “Well, Bobby was right. You’re lucky your ghost hasn’t killed anyone yet. They usually get more violent the longer they stay in between worlds.”

 

“So, can you help me?” Willy asked hopefully.

 

Dean nodded. “Sure, just tell us everything about the girl, her name, where she was buried. And we’ll be your ghostbusters.”

 

* * *

 

Cas was grinning from ear to ear as they stumbled into the motel room, covered in dirt and whatever else they encountered in their endeavor to salt and burn the bones of the young woman who was haunting the house of Lady Agathe.

 

Overall, he was finding everything much more bearable. Dean’s overall receptiveness to close proximity, to contact, his happiness. Cas could bear to put up with the curse as long as it stayed like this. But he knew that wasn’t going to be the case. None of them were that lucky.

 

Cas loosened his muddy tie. “I still can’t believe you managed to convince the caretaker we were there doing a survey. You’re too good at lying.”

 

“Comes with the job.” Dean smiled brightly and added, “You’re getting better at it, too.”

 

Wasn’t that the truth? He’d successfully deceived everyone in his life at one point or another. Cas let out a sigh as he laid the tie out over the back of one of the chairs. “I’ve changed a lot…”

 

Dean stepped in front of him, his eyes sincere. “Only for the better.”

 

Despite having suffered from the curse for the past couple of days, it still managed to take his breath away, the swelling of love he would feel for Dean when the man showed him genuine affection. Cas smiled. “You’re only saying that because you think I’m funnier than I used to be.”

 

Dean poked his nose. “Maybe. At the moment you’re definitely dirtier than you used to be.”

 

“And whose fault is that?” he challenged. Dean had shoved him into the hole when the caretaker first appeared. His only regret had been not yanking the hunter down with him when he had the chance.

 

Dean tried to look innocent, but the smug grin on his face destroyed the intention. “I’m surprised you haven’t done your mojo cleaning thing already.”

 

Cas shook his head sadly. “I can’t. This curse is seriously impacting my grace and considering I keep having to use it for...” He offered up his presently covered bandaged forearms, clearly not needing to finish his sentence.

 

“Oh.” Cas could feel the worry emanating from Dean for a moment, like a suffocating wave. Dean cleared his throat. “Well, there are always showers.”

 

Cas let out an undignified groan. “Besides urinating, that was one of my least favorite requirements as a human.” He moved to sit on the bed, then thought better of it, considering his clothes were caked in mud and dirt.

 

“I remember you being a fan of the water pressure in the bunker. I thought you loved showering,” Dean queried as he followed Cas.

 

Cas could feel his own cheeks heat, he shook his head. “Water pressure, yes. Showers, no.” He really hoped Dean would stop inquiring. He wasn’t sure if it was the effects of the curse, but he found it far too difficult to keep quiet about things like his needs and feelings around Dean.

 

Dean gave him a confused look, scratching his forehead. “Any particular reason?” he asked before he helped Cas take his trench coat off.

 

_ Stupid, adorable, curious, hunter.  _ “Privacy.” Cas hoped he got his meaning. He didn’t feel up to further embarrassing himself.

 

He could see the moment it clicked in Dean’s head when his eyes suddenly went wide and he could feel embarrassment from the hunter. “Oh… sure… But if you want to go to bed with me…. I mean, sleep with me… No, I mean use the bed… for sleeping, not… um…. You have to take a shower.”

 

It was amazing how little things, like Dean stumbling over his words, made his heart swell. He let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. Do you have a spare change of clothes I could borrow?”

 

Dean tried to look anywhere but him as he nodded. “Sure.” He walked over to his duffel bag and pulled out another t-shirt and clean underwear, handing them over to Cas with his eyes on the floor. “I’ll just quickly grab us some beer from the convenience store across the street. I’ll be right back.”

 

Cas nodded dumbly and watched Dean leave. The lingering embarrassment was still fully present in his mind, his own emotions reflecting them. He couldn’t help but also feel the relief Dean felt as he took his leave. Like he couldn’t wait to get away from Cas. 

 

He needed a distraction, so he made his way to the bathroom, depositing the clothes on the sink as he turned the water on. Cas leaned against the counter while he waited for the water to heat up, trying to tune out all of the negative emotions that were currently coursing through him. 

 

_ Dean hates you. He can’t wait to get away from you. You’re just another burden he has to put up with. _

 

Cas groaned into his hands as the silent mantra played in an internal loop. He hated how true those words felt. He shook his head and moved to test the temperature. It was lukewarm at best. When he turned around, he saw Dean’s razor on the counter. 

 

Without even thinking twice, he grabbed the razor and pulled one of the blades out. Cas let out a shaky exhale as he pressed it into his wrist, a bubbling of red following the trace of the blade. He sighed in relief, the pain successfully distracting him from the emotions, and guilt, and everything else.

 

Cas looked up and when he saw his own reflection, he was surprised to see a creature he hardly recognized, holding a blade to his own wrist. A creature he hadn’t had to face in a few years. It was like a shock of electricity. He dropped the blade, shut off the shower, and stumbled out of the bathroom.

 

He forced himself to sit in one of the chairs and wait. He just had to wait for Dean. Cas tried to ignore the way his eyes darted around in search of his angel blade. It felt like forever before Dean returned, but when he finally did, Cas remembered he hadn’t healed himself.

 

In a frantic movement, Cas scrambled out of the chair to turn his back to Dean, hopefully able to successfully heal himself before the hunter noticed.

 

“Cas?” He could hear him putting the beer on the table before he quickly walked around him, “What’s happening? You didn’t find the sho–” Dean gasped as his gaze fell to Cas’s arm. “Fuck.”

 

Dean wrapped his fingers around his wrist, pulling his sleeve down to press the fabric against his wound. “Shit, can you heal yourself? What happened, Cas? I thought you were…  _ we  _ were okay.”

 

That just made him feel even worse. Cas shook his head, trying to not let the emotions overwhelm him. “I don’t know.” He  _ did  _ know, of course he knew, but he was sick of making Dean feel bad for things that were outside of his control.

 

Dean cursed again and pulled him towards the bathroom. “Let me clean this up. I’m sorry for leaving you alone. I should’ve known better.”

 

“You shouldn’t have to  _ anything,  _ Dean!” Cas turned from him, stepping as far away as he could. It was finally coming to a boiling point. All of his frustration, his anger, his guilt, muddled with all of the confusing emotions he could feel from Dean. Cas held his hand over the wound and healed it, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed, now feeling even more dizzy after expelling his constantly working grace to heal another self-inflicted injury.

 

Dean followed him, getting down on the floor on one knee in front of him, taking his hand. “Cas… I know you’re frustrated and this whole situation is a mess. But I can’t help you when you shut me out, man.”

 

“Maybe I don’t want you to have to constantly rescue me, Dean,” he mumbled petulantly. Cas hated not having control over his emotions.

 

“Yeah, well...” Dean shrugged. “That’s not an option as long as you do things like that. But here’s my suggestion: How about you tell me what you need, so I don’t have to rescue you? Then everyone’s happy.”

 

Cas scoffed. “Happy, Dean? Are you  _ really  _ happy? How can you be? When you have to put up with this? In fact, because of this life, your one chance at happiness was disintegrated. By me, if I’m not mistaken, so tell me. How can you even suggest such a thing when you and I both know it’s bullshit?”

 

“Woah, Cas! I don’t even know what you’re talking about. The only thing that would really ‘disintegrate’ my happiness right now, is the fact that my best friend is trying to hurt himself.” Dean sighed deeply and leaned his forehead against Cas’s arm for a moment. “I’m begging you, please. Let me help you through this. If you really care about my happiness, then don’t make me lose you.”

 

Cas cupped Dean’s face and pulled him up to make eye contact with him. He let out a soft sigh. “I'm sorry I keep doing this to you.”

 

Dean shook his head lightly. “Don’t be.” He reached up and gently caressed his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “None of this is your fault.”

 

He turned his face to kiss Dean’s hand, terrified to speak in case he said something ridiculous. Like how much he loved Dean in that moment.

 

Dean rubbed his thumb over his cheek again before he slowly stood up and reached for his hand. “Come on.” Dean’s voice sounded quiet, it was difficult to sort through the onslaught of emotions he was getting from him. The most prominent seemed to be some kind of helplessness.

 

Cas accepted the hand, but tilted his head in confusion. “What…”

 

“You’re still covered in mud,” Dean answered as he pulled him into the bathroom, stripping his own shirt on the way before he opened his jeans and toed off his shoes.

 

Cas felt his throat tighten, he tried to swallow the lump that seemed to have formed. “What are you doing?”

 

Dean let go of his hand to get rid of his jeans, standing in front of him in just his boxer briefs. “What does it look like? Get out of your clothes, Cas.”

 

He was so incredibly confused, he didn't understand what was happening, but found himself obeying. His hands trembled as he unbuttoned his shirt, trying very hard to look at anything but the half naked hunter standing in front of him.

 

Dean turned on the water again, holding his hand under it to test the temperature, before he looked back at him with a questioning look. “You okay?”

 

“I don't know how to answer that,” he mumbled, feeling bizarrely self conscious as he stripped down to his underwear.

 

“I won’t bite.” Dean grinned at him as he held out his hand. “And the water is quite nice. Come on.”

 

For a moment he contemplated stepping into the shower with his underwear still on. He shook his head at himself and tugged the boxers down, tentatively stepping into the shower. When Cas and Dean made awkward eye contact, they both burst into laughter. Cas was shaking his head. “I'm sorry for being awkward.”

 

Dean winked at him, while he got rid of his boxer briefs. “It’s okay. I just don’t want to leave you alone again. And since you can feel what I feel… I figured I’ll make you much less uncomfortable if I help you clean up.”

 

Cas quirked his brow. “You think getting naked with me in a shower will make me  _ less  _ uncomfortable?”

 

Dean nodded as he stepped under the shower with him. “Would you rather go stir crazy in here with me pacing in the other room, worrying like a nut?”

 

“I guess you have a point…” he acquiesced. Enjoying the warm spray of the shower almost as much as he was enjoying Dean’s proximity. The urge to reach out and touch was stifling, but considering their state of undress, even Cas knew that was incredibly inappropriate. As his eyes raked over skin he’d never actually seen before, Cas turned his back to Dean and braced his hands on the stall wall. He felt at a loss for how to behave. Maybe Dean worrying and pacing on the other side of the door wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

 

* * *

 

Dean felt incredibly proud of himself for having enough self control to not let his gaze wander down Cas’s body. Nope, he wouldn’t do it. Especially now that Cas had turned around, hands braced against the wall. 

 

Dean bit his lip. Nope, not going there. He grabbed one of the little shampoo bottles and tried to distract himself with clean thoughts. Helping Cas. Because, honestly, seeing him again with blood coming from his arm, it scared the shit out of him. He swore to himself to never let him out of sight again. He could do this. 

 

“Close your eyes,” Dean murmured before he spread the shampoo in Cas’s muddy hair, massaging it into the soft strands to get rid of all the dirt. He also hoped Cas would just relax, he could see how tense his best friend was just from the way he was standing there in front of him. “Try to relax.” 

 

Cas’s breathing was ragged, like he wasn’t able to catch his breath. Like he was going to start hyperventilating at any moment.

 

“Cas?” Dean asked slowly, his hands sliding out of Cas’s hair and onto his shoulders. “Hey, you okay?”

 

The little laugh that escaped Cas’s throat sounded almost hysterical. “Dean… Shit. I’m sorry.”

 

Dean started to worry again, although he tried to suppress it. He washed the rest of the foam from his hands before he put his hands on Cas’s shoulders again. “Turn around.”

 

“No,” he practically growled.

 

Dean sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment before he started to wash the foam out of Cas’s hair. “Talk to me. Please. I have no idea if I’m making you worse or better… or what you need right now.”

 

“Dean… Your ministrations are causing an intense physiological reaction, okay?” His tone was more embarrassed than angry.

 

_ Oh.  _ Well, that made sense. Dean shook his head, trying not to laugh with the relief he felt. Cas didn't feel bad because of that stupid curse trying to kill him, he was just embarrassed because he had a boner. That was something Dean could deal with. "So, you've got a boner. That's not the end of the world, Cas. You know that's a perfectly natural reaction."

 

Cas scoffed. “Yeah, then do you have one?”

 

"I'm not the one getting his hair washed by a really sexy man, while cursed with a love spell." Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. He was sure he would have a boner too if Cas had his hands on him. Which was still a very weird thought, but he was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he didn't need much to get turned on these days. “My point is, you shouldn’t feel bad about it.” 

 

“I don’t feel bad, Dean. I’m trying to restrain myself.”

 

Dean swept the last bits of foam from Cas's hair wondering what he could do to make the guy feel better. "Do you want me to stop? Cuz if this is causing more harm than good, I’ll let you clean yourself. I’ll just stay here in the bathroom with you, if that's okay."

 

Cas gently grasped Dean’s wrist and turned back to face him. Before he could register anything, Cas closed the distance between them, using Dean’s gasp to slip his tongue into his mouth. Still gripping Dean’s wrist, Cas’s other hand found it’s way to the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him deeper into the kiss.

 

Great, now  _ he  _ was getting a boner. A treacherous voice in his head was suggesting that he should just give in. They both needed the release and what was more important, this was obviously helping Cas. And boy, did Dean want to help Cas in that moment. He moaned into the kiss, pressing Cas against the wall behind them as he buried his fingers into his wet hair.

 

Cas arched into him, grinding his erection into Dean’s hip. It promptly reminded Dean that there had been a good reason they shouldn’t do this. Cas was cursed, what if he didn’t really want to do this? What if, when he was normal again, he would regret it? What if this destroyed their friendship? Not everyone could deal with a friends with benefits situation.

 

He grabbed Cas’s shoulder and pulled back from the kiss, totally out of breath. “Cas. Are you sure you wanna do this and this isn’t just because of the curse?”

 

Cas breathed out a shuddery sigh. “What part of ‘I've been sexually drawn to you for years’ escapes your understanding?”

 

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. Good point. “Just wanted to make su–”

 

Cas had yanked him forward into another kiss. A kiss so hot, Dean’s thoughts and doubts completely vanished from his mind. This was going to happen. Excitement and arousal coursed through his body as he cupped Cas’s face, letting one hand drift to the back of his neck to hold him close, the other one stroking down Cas’s throat, over his shoulder to his chest. 

 

Cas’s other hand slid down Dean’s torso, gripping onto his hip as an anchor, or maybe a blockade. Like he wanted to go further, but he was stopping himself.

 

He remembered that Cas didn’t have much experience with all of this and decided that there was no rush. Cas was too important to him for just a quick tug in the shower. And taking his time, satisfying his own curiosity while giving Cas the time of his life – that was exactly what he wanted to do. He licked over Cas’s upper lip, leaving a few more soft kisses there, before he slowly drew back from Cas. He grabbed some shower gel and poured it into his hands. “Turn around,” he breathed out. “Let me take care of you.”

 

When Cas turned around, resuming his position with his hands braced against the wall, Dean stepped closer, kissing the back of his neck as he started to massage his shoulders and down Cas’s back. He pressed his thumbs into the muscles along Cas’s spine, following the path until he reached his hips.

 

Cas moaned, his voice breathy as he murmured Dean’s name. He craned his neck to look back at Dean. “What are you doing to me?” The question wasn’t accusatory. It was awed, amazed, as though he couldn’t believe Dean actually existed.

 

Dean dropped a few more kisses on the back of Cas's neck to hide his smile. "I'm helping you relax." He slid his arms around him, letting his fingers trace the hard lines of Cas's chest, teasing his nipples. “Helping you clean up." His hands wandered down Cas's stomach and to his hipbones, carefully avoiding Cas's cock. He had never touched another guy's dick before, but in that moment, he felt so horny, he couldn’t bring himself to care. "Before I take you to bed," Dean whispered in Cas's ear.

 

Cas gasped, tilting his head to press his lips gently against Dean’s.

 

Dean deepened the kiss while he slipped his hands down further to Cas's ass. Damn, that felt good. Not soft and rounded like a woman's ass, but firm and hard. He was surprised at himself, for liking it so much. He had always assumed touching another man would be a massive turn off for him. But this was Cas. For some reason, the way he reacted to Dean, the little gasps he made, his inexperience. It was all a massive turn on.

 

He kneaded Cas's ass with his fingers, slipping them teasingly between his cheeks. "You like that?" he asked against Cas's lips.

 

Cas canted his ass into the touch, groaning as he murmured, “Very much…”

 

Dean smiled, he loved that Cas was being so receptive, so eager. He experimentally pushed his fingers in between his thighs, touching Cas's balls carefully before he cupped them in his hand.

 

That was met with a sharp intake of breath as Cas practically moaned, “Dean…”

 

Dean hummed, pulling his hand back for a moment to get more shower gel. He spread the foam all over Cas's body, kneading it into his muscles, enjoying the way Cas arched into the touch. When he was finished with his back, he kissed Cas's shoulder. "Turn around."

 

Cas obeyed and Dean had to refrain from outright gasping at the sheer look of lust fogging up usually crystal clear blue eyes. Cas dove in for another kiss the second they were face to face.

 

Dean smiled against his lips, for a moment giving into Cas's eagerness before he treated Cas's chest and stomach with the same attention as his back. He felt more and more excited to let his hands wander lower. Why was just the thought of touching Cas's dick suddenly so overwhelmingly hot? 

 

He let his thumb grace Cas's insane hipbones, sliding his hands ever so slowly towards his erection. He gasped when he wrapped his soapy fingers around it, feeling how big and hard his friend was.  _ Fuck.  _ Cas was sexy as hell.

 

“Fuck,” Cas hissed at the contact.  _ Damn.  _ There should be a law against angels swearing.

 

Dean dove in for a quick and dirty, open mouthed kiss (and damn, where had Cas learned to kiss like that?) before he took the shower head and cleaned the rest of Cas's body. It was time to get him on a bed, because he had no intention of just giving Cas a handjob in the shower. Not to mention, he suspected if he teased Cas's dick any longer, the guy wouldn't last long with all of the tension that had been building up between them over the last few days.

 

He shut off the water when he was done and grinned at Cas, loving how his angel was out of breath, and that Dean was the reason for it. "Let's get you to bed."

 

Cas nodded as he stepped out of the shower, grabbing one of the towels and barely drying himself off before literally dragging Dean into the room. The reticent and timid creature who had been in the shower had now been replaced by a nymphomaniac from the way Cas shoved Dean onto the bed and straddled his hips before attacking his lips again. As his mouth slid to Dean’s cheek, down to his neck, Cas murmured, “I love the way you taste,” before he sucked the sensitive skin at his pulse point between his teeth.

 

Hopefully that meant Cas felt open to trying new things and wanted to taste Dean’s dick, which was throbbing at that point. Damn, just the thought of Cas’s lips wrapped around his cock… Dean gasped and arched his body up. “Fuck, Cas. Where did you learn this?” 

 

He leaned up and smirked as he quipped, “The pizza man.”

 

Dean chuckled, pulling Cas into a quick, deep kiss. “I should let you watch porn more often.”

 

“Could always show me first hand, instead…” he teased before he started trailing kisses down Dean’s neck to his chest.

 

Dean put one of his arms behind his head to watch Cas’s exploration, the other carded through his friend’s still damp hair, messing it up. He loved the rumpled look on Cas, the way he had closed his eyes and his lips worked over his chest. If Dean even had the slightest doubt about doing this, it was destroyed in that moment. This felt too right to be a mistake.

 

As Cas trailed lower and lower, Dean tingled with an excitement he hadn't felt in years. Cas pressed a kiss to each of Dean’s hips before looking up at him, eyes hooded and pupils lust blown. “Can I touch you?” He nodded to Dean’s dick, as though he wouldn't understand otherwise.

 

“Hell yeah. You don’t have to ask.” Dean grinned, feeling out of breath at seeing Cas hovering over him, his lips open and so fucking inviting. He dropped his hand from Cas’s hair to his face, the pad of his thumb caressing his angel’s lips. 

 

Cas smiled and pressed a kiss to his thumb as he gently took Dean in hand. Using his thumb to swipe at the precum, he tentatively began to stroke him, as though trying to gauge Dean’s reaction.

 

Dean groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. Even though Cas was careful, his fingers were strong and rough, the exact opposite of a woman's delicate fingers. Dean loved it. He never thought having strong hands on his dick would feel so much better. He bit his lower lip as he opened his eyes again. He wanted to see Cas. Watching him, exploring this with him, it all felt incredibly arousing.

 

Cas wetted his lips before he closed his eyes and wrapped that sinful mouth around the head of his dick. He swirled his tongue around the head before taking more of Dean into his mouth. Cas hummed contentedly as he slowly managed to take Dean in to the hilt. 

 

Dean moaned loudly.  _ Fuck.  _ This was better than anything he'd ever felt before, and he was sure that wasn't just his dry spell talking. Cas's lips, his mouth – he was made to do this. He seriously hoped Cas would be open to having sex again when he was curse free. That they could maybe have some sort of friends with benefits thing in the future. Because this! He wanted to see and feel like this again.

 

"Oh, Cas... fuck, that feels good," he moaned, carding his fingers through his friend’s hair again.

 

He braced his palms against Dean’s hips and started bobbing his head up and down, there was an inexperience to his method, but it didn’t matter. It still felt damn good. The wet heat surrounding him was perfection.

 

Almost too perfect, especially when he felt Cas's tongue circling his dick when he started to suck him. "Gnnnn, Cas... Cas," he groaned, gently pulling at Cas’s hair to get his attention. "If you want me to fuck you, you need to slow down."

 

Cas pulled off of him, the wet pop music to his ears. There was a certain debauched and filthiness to what they were doing that Dean instantly loved. “As a sort of friend said to me once: put up or shut up.”

 

Dean chuckled before he pulled Cas up to him and into a filthy, deep kiss, tasting himself on Cas's tongue. He turned them around on the bed before he leaned back with a smile. "Don't go away."

 

He slid from the bed and searched through his duffel bag. Grabbing a bottle of lube and condom, he quickly made his way back to the bed. Cas looked sexy as hell in the rumpled sheets, looking up at him with his big blue eyes. Dean couldn't get enough. "This’ll be easier for you if you turn around."

 

Cas nodded but halted his movement. His expression quite timid as he asked, “Will you kiss me first?”

 

“Sure.” Dean smiled as he leaned over Cas, pulling him into a kiss. It felt a lot more intimate than before. The way Cas was clinging at him, touched something deep in his heart that he didn’t want to think about in that moment. His lips hovered over Cas’s as they attempted to catch their breath, their eyes locked. Dean felt his heart stumble, seeing the love, the lust, the adoration and sincerity on Cas’s face. A strange thought crossed his mind then. A secret hushed wish, a longing to see this expression on Cas’s face for real, without the influence of the curse.

 

He tenderly caressed Cas’s cheek, tracing his eyebrow before he leaned in for another kiss. A soft one, one that spoke a language other than lust or desire. It spoke of trust and the deep bond that connected them. When he drew back, he gave Cas a shy smile. “Ready for more?”

 

The way Cas returned his smile, the way his lips were half-tilted, eyes shimmering with a fondness that was truly breathtaking, Dean felt a warmth wash over him. Is this what true happiness felt like? 

 

Cas nodded and moved to roll onto his stomach.

 

Dean kissed along Cas’s spine before he uncapped the bottle of lube and graciously covered his fingers. He braced himself on his elbow when he laid on his side next Cas, close enough so he could playfully nudge Cas’s nose with his own. He wanted to see Cas’s reactions when he prepared him. Not only because it was exciting to watch, but also so he could make sure he wasn’t hurting the guy. 

 

He rubbed the lube between his fingers to warm it up before he slid his fingers between Cas’s,  _ really nice,  _ ass cheeks. Dean instantly started to tease his hole. 

 

Cas gasped, arching up into the touch. He could physically feel his friend trembling.

 

“You tell me if you feel uncomfortable, okay?" Dean whispered as he tenderly pressed a finger against Cas's hole. The muscle gave way to his finger, but Cas clenched around him. Dean carded his fingers through Cas's hair with his other hand. "Shh. Try to relax." He leaned over, kissing Cas's forehead softly.

 

He angled his head to capture Dean’s lips in a soft kiss, mumbling a ragged, “I’ll try…”

 

Dean deepened their kiss as he slowly pushed his finger deeper inside, up to his first knuckle. He waited for Cas to relax around him, while he sucked his lower lip into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it before soothing it with his tongue. “You taste really good, did you know that?” It was a mixture of honey, summerrain, and something that was just so… Cas. Dean couldn’t get enough of it.

 

Cas hummed against his lips. “I never even dared hope to hear words like that from you.”

 

Dean smiled against his lips. Hearing Cas being happy with him, somehow made him happy, too. But his words had also triggered his curiosity. He pushed his finger deeper inside, licking over Cas’s upper lip before he whispered, “You thought about this before the curse?”

 

Cas ducked his head as he answered with a simple, “We’ve always had a profound bond.”

 

He guessed that counted as a ‘yes'. He nudged his nose again so Cas would look up. “Come on, let me see you.”

 

With a slight tilt of his head, Dean was suddenly lost in unending blue depths. Cas gently grasped Dean’s chin and smiled. “Hello, Dean.”

 

“Hey, Cas.” Dean felt breathless, his heart stumbled with the tension between them rising. How could just looking at Cas feel more intimate than having a finger in his ass?  _ Damn.  _ He had to get the show on the road. 

 

He pushed his finger deeper, crooking and sliding up and down softly to search for his prostate. He knew he found it when Cas suddenly gasped and he could feel the gland under his fingertip. He teased it a few more times, enjoying the breathy moans escaping from Cas’s lips.

 

The noises Cas made went straight to his cock. He couldn't wait to fuck him. He pressed a second finger against Cas, hoping he’d be ready for it when he carefully pushed it inside of him.

 

Cas let out a deep, guttural moan, bucking into the pressure. “That feels amazing.” 

 

Feeling reassured Dean pressed them in deeper, aiming for his sweet spot again. He kissed Cas’s forehead. “Can’t wait to be inside you. I wish, I...” He bit his lip, stopping himself from saying his wish out loud in that moment.

 

Cas nodded. “I know. Me, too.”

 

Dean leaned his forehead against Cas’s. He loved that Cas seemed to understand him without having to say anything. He pulled him into another deep kiss, his fingers pushing in and out of him at a quicker pace now. Dean felt Cas relaxing around his digits, so he carefully added a third, slowly working him open. “Still good?” he breathed out against his lips.

 

“Would be better if it was your dick,” he groaned. 

 

Dean grinned, planting a quick kiss to his lips before he slowly pulled out his fingers. He slid back on the bed, grabbing the condom, quickly opening it even though his fingers were trembling slightly. He had no idea if he was nervous, or just excited.

 

Cas slightly turned over and placed a halting hand over Dean’s trembling one. “I’m not naive enough to assume or hope this  _ won’t  _ be a one time thing. I…” He took a deep breath before continuing, “If this is just the once, I want to feel  _ you.” _

 

Dean felt conflicted. He chewed his lower lip, taking in Cas’s pleading eyes. It’s not like he could get Cas pregnant and STD’s probably weren’t an issue for angels. But he had to make sure. “You would know if you had any diseases, right?” 

 

That was met with a soft chuckle. “I can assure you, I have a clean bill of health.”

 

Dean let his gaze linger on the condom in his hand for one last second before he dropped it back on the bed. Cas seemed to be his exception to a lot of things. “Okay. I trust you. But if my dick falls off, I’m kicking you straight to Hell, just so you know.” He grabbed the lube again and covered his throbbing cock with it, moaning with the feel of the friction of his own hand. Damn, he hoped he would last longer than a freaking teenager, because in that moment, just looking at Cas had him embarrassingly close to climax.

 

He leaned over Cas, kissing along his back before he grabbed his hips and pulled him up as he knelt behind him. Dean stroked soothingly over Cas’s back with one hand as he lined up his dick, before he slowly pushed into him. Even with the preparation, Cas was incredibly tight and tense around him. He waited a moment before pushing deeper, so Cas could get used to him. It felt overwhelmingly good. The warmth and friction. Dean had to bite down hard on his lip to hold himself back. “You okay, Cas?” he pressed out.

 

“Better than okay,” he groaned as he arched up into Dean.

 

Dean gasped with the unexpected friction, pushing deeper until he was buried to hilt. “Oh, fuck… you feel amazing, baby.”

 

“Dean,” he almost mewled in response.

 

Dean grabbed Cas’s hip and started to thrust into him, his other hand carded through Cas’s hair. This was hot as fuck, but there was a tiny voice inside of him wishing he could see Cas‘s face. He let his palm wander from Cas’s hair down his neck and over his back, before lining up to balance his grasp on Cas’s hips. His pace got quicker, firm grip making it easier as he shifted his angle slightly, hoping to hit Cas’s prostate with each thrust.

 

Cas bucked his hips upward, meeting Dean with every thrust, knuckles stretched taut and white as his fists clenched into the sheets. The sounds he was making were pornographic. Cas then groaned a frantic, “Dean… Dean wait…”

 

Dean stopped instantly, afraid that he had hurt him in some way. “You okay?”

 

“I want to see your face,” he breathed out.

 

Dean didn’t hesitate for a moment, slowly pulling out of him and breathing a gruff, “Turn around.” He couldn’t believe his luck that Cas wanted the same thing.

 

Cas easily rolled onto his back, looking up at Dean with an earnestness that would have looked strange on any adult male, but on Cas? It was fitting. 

 

Dean pushed into him before he leaned over his friend, bracing his weight on his elbows as he kissed him again.

 

Cas gasped into the kiss, his hands cupping Dean’s face. As his thrusts grew in intensity and pace, Cas never once let go, their moans harmonizing in a way Dean never would have thought possible. 

 

“Dean…” 

 

Dean would never not like the way Cas moaned his name. He had a way of saying it like it meant everything. Dean had no idea how he deserved someone like Cas in his life. 

 

He dropped his hand between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around Cas’s dick to stroke him in time with his thrusts. It wasn’t a perfect angle, but nothing could bother Dean in that moment. All he could think of was Cas and how fucking close he was to coming inside his friend.

 

Dean swallowed Cas’s moans as he caressed his tongue with his own. “You close?” He gasped against Cas’s open mouth as he drew back.

 

“Yes,” he whispered. Cas looked into Dean’s eyes and without hesitation he murmured, “I love you, Dean.”

 

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he could say it back. Even if it was just to make Cas happy. But then, it wasn’t like Cas was  _ really  _ feeling love. That was just the curse talking. And just because Cas had an attraction to Dean before the curse happened, didn’t mean he had  _ feelings  _ for him. Instead of saying anything, he dove in for another deep kiss, one that hopefully conveyed how much Cas meant to him.

 

Cas whimpered into the kiss as his orgasm struck, painting both of their torsos in white, hot streaks. It pushed Dean right over the edge as he thrust deep into Cas a few more times before he got blindsided by his own orgasm. He rocked into Cas, riding out the waves of pleasure while he tried to look at his friend. “Cas…” he breathed out, his voice sounded just as in awe as he felt. 

 

With a slightly trembling hand, Cas cupped Dean’s cheek. “That was… much better than the last time I had sex.” He chuckled a little breathlessly.

 

Dean couldn’t help but mirror the laugh. “Glad to hear. “ He was still trying to catch his breath as he carefully slipped out of Cas and pulled him into his arms as he rolled next to him. He kissed the tip of his nose. “That was… something.”

 

“You…” Cas seemed hesitant, face more serious than he would have liked. “You did  _ want  _ to have sex with me, right? You didn’t force yourself for my benefit?”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding me? Cas, of course I wanted this.”

 

He could visibly see Cas relax, his shoulders slumping in relief with his exhaled breath. “Good.”

 

Dean carded his fingers through Cas’s hair. “Cas, seriously. If I’d known it would be like that… All I’m saying is, I really liked it. A lot.”

 

Cas’s smile was so damn bright, he was pretty much convinced the dude would never need a halo. “So did I.”

 

Dean gave him a soft smile and another quick kiss before he pushed himself up from his cozy position on the bed. “Be just a sec. Keep our bed warm, alright?” He winked at Cas before he slid out of the bed. He looked down at Cas, enjoying the sight of him looking thoroughly blissed out, before he made his way to the bathroom to wash himself off and grabbing a towel to clean up Cas.

 

When he got back, Cas was already half asleep. Dean felt a strange pull in his heart, something he had never felt before. Probably wasn’t surprising that his feelings were all a bit scrambled after that. But sorting it out was a problem for tomorrow-Dean. 

 

He carefully cleaned up Cas’s thigh and stomach with the towel before he threw it on the ground and slipped back into the bed. He instantly pulled Cas into his arms again, smiling when his friend rested his head on his shoulder, nose buried against his throat. He felt Cas’s lips softly mumbling something he couldn’t understand against his skin as Dean closed his eyes.

 

“Goodnight, Cas.”

 

* * *

 

Dean had no idea what startled him awake. For some reason he instantly panicked as he looked around the room, feeling like something was wrong. That’s when he realized he was alone in the bed.  _ Fuck! _

 

He jumped up, first checking the bathroom. “Cas?” The door was slightly ajar and when he got no answer, he pushed the door open to look inside. No sign of Cas. _ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

 

Cas probably freaked out because they had sex. Of course, that must be it. Dean obviously had thought with his dick and it must have spiralled Cas downward because of that stupid curse, making him think... fuck knows what.

 

What if he went to the Impala? Had opened the trunk and gone through the weapons to look for his blade? Dean tore out of the room of their motel and stepped outside into the cold morning air. His baby was still parked where he had left her, still no sight of Cas. Dean ran across the parking lot and opened the trunk to check if the angel blade was missing, but to his relief it was still where he had hid it under the hidden floorboard inside another weapons box. The other weapons seemed to be untouched as well. 

 

“Where the hell are you?” Dean murmured to himself as he looked around, before going through his jeans back pocket to pull out his phone. He speed dialed Cas and heard his phone ringing through the open door of their motel room. Cas had left his phone, which meant he had no way of tracking him. 

 

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, in a futile attempt to quell the panic. “Cas, fuck, I hope you can hear my prayer, man. Please come back to me, please. Whatever you need, come on, I’m here for you. Just don’t do anything stupid. I swear if you do something stupid, I’ll kick your ass.”

 

“No need for that, Dean.” Cas chuckled as he came walking up, carrying a couple of bags with him. “Didn’t you see the note I left on the table?”

 

Dean gaped at him in shock for a second before relief flooded him and he gasped, his body walking up to Cas without making a conscious decision about it, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him tight. “Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again.”

 

“I’m sorry. I assumed… I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas relaxed into him, but arms still awkwardly at his side from the four bags he was carrying.

 

Dean closed his eyes and pulled him tighter for a moment. “I…” Dean shook his head and leaned back to look at Cas. “How are feeling, man? You seem better.”

 

“I feel better. It’s bizarre, actually. I woke up feeling invigorated.” He drew back and smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still afflicted with the curse, but… I don’t know… Maybe…” Cas ducked his head and let his sentence dangle.

 

Dean felt a smile creeping on his lips. “Cuz we had sex?”

 

Maybe it was the way the sun hit, but he could have sworn Cas’s cheeks turned a shade of pink. “Possibly? It’s the only thing I can think of. I got a little antsy after a while, but nowhere near as unbearable being separated from you felt before.”

 

Dean cupped Cas’s cheek and gave him a soft smile. “Good.” He took in the bags his friend was carrying. "So you went shopping?"  

 

Cas nodded as they both made their way back into the motel room. 

 

“Yes. Since we’re cooped up here, I wanted to help you with your happiness, too. There’s pie, and burgers, and I managed to find those small legal fireworks…” Cas explained, tone almost nonchalant as he started unloading the contents of the bags onto the table. He pulled out one of the firecrackers and held it out towards Dean. “I’m sure it’s not the same as your fondest memory, but I can’t imagine these won’t be fun either way.”

 

Dean felt frozen in place. He stared at Cas as the realization hit him. Like a stupid piece of a puzzle just clicked into place and made him see the whole picture.

 

Everything suddenly made sense. The way he freaked out over the fact that kissing Cas had turned him on. The way he was going mad with just the thought of losing Cas, the way he felt when he allowed himself to be close to him; talking to him, feeling supported, feeling loved.

 

It all made sense now. Like the answer had been in front of him the entire time, but he just couldn’t see it until now. How perfect Cas was for him, knowing his life as a hunter, accepting him the way he was, knowing all of his weaknesses and still staying by his side, trusting him. 

 

Dean needed Cas. He needed Cas because he was in love with him. He was in love with his best friend.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 

“And you’re sure this will work?” Sam gave Mick a very skeptical look as the shorter man handed him a “special” witch killing gun and hexbag.

 

Mick nodded as he cocked his gun. “It’s specifically designed to take any sort of bullet and make it a witch killing bullet.”

 

Sam pursed his lips. “Cool.” He gave Mick another doubtful look and asked, “Are you sure you’re up for this? The witch is pretty nasty and we’ll have to catch her and interrogate her first, so she can lift the curse off of Cas.” 

 

“I am. I need to get all the experience I can, yeh?” 

 

“Somehow that isn’t very reassuring, Mick. We were three  _ experienced  _ hunters and we couldn’t catch her… I hope your equipment and your hexbags will make the difference here… At least the building only has one exit, hopefully that means we’ll get her trapped.”

 

“These hexbags will isolate her powers and keep them repressed as long as she's in the room. We’ll basically be up against a harmless old bird,” Mick explained, making it a point to stuff his hexbag into his coat pocket.

 

“Hope you’re right,” Sam murmured as he exited their rental car, keeping his gun at the ready as he carefully approached the door of the abandoned warehouse. He exchanged one last look with Mick to see if he was okay to go in before he slowly opened the door. Of course the hinges squeaked terribly, destroying any surprise factor they had.

 

Sam cursed their bad luck as he looked inside the dark room full of containers and storage crates. There was no way the witch hadn’t heard them. He looked back to Mick. “Be careful.”

 

Mick nodded and carefully started looking around the crates and containers to the left side of the building. Sam checked the other side, but there was no trace of the witch. When Sam turned back to give Mick a questioning shrug, he noticed a crate being pushed over the ledge right over Mick’s head. Sam pushed Mick to the side in the last second before the crate smashed to the ground right next to them. He aimed his weapon at the top of the container, noticing the witch standing on top of them. “There’s nowhere you can go. Just come down from there and we can talk.”

 

The woman’s eyes were ablaze with a hint of madness as she looked down on them with an incredulous expression. Without response she waved her hands at them. Suddenly the witch’s cocky expression morphed into fear, as she appeared to realize she was powerless. Thankfully the damn hexbags worked. 

 

Still attempting to maintain a bravado, she sneered at them, “You don’t want to talk. You want to kill me. So, just do it already!”

 

Mick cocked his gun and aimed it at the witch. “Gladly.”

 

Sam held his hand over Mick’s arm, giving him an imploring look before turning to address the witch, “We would be willing to negotiate.” 

 

“I don’t negotiate with  _ hunters!”  _ She practically spat the last word from her mouth.

 

“We’re Men of Letters,” Sam tried, hoping that might have more impact on the witch than being simple hunters.

 

“Lies! Men of Letters don’t do the dirty work!”

 

“We’ve had a change in protocol…” Mick offered, trying to help.

 

The witch scoffed. “Just kill me.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes and cocked the gun. “It’s not like you have a lot of options here. We can kill you, or you could lift the curse you put on one of our friends and we’ll let you go.” 

 

“What is this supposed curse?” she demanded, arms crossed over her chest.

 

“You threw a pendant at my friend. It was cursed with a love spell.” Sam didn’t like how the witch didn’t even know she had cursed one of them. That didn’t bode well.

 

“There’s a number of different love curses out there…”

 

Mick let out an annoyed sigh and clarified, “The Ophelia Heart curse.”

 

She regarded them both carefully, methodically, as though she were trying to figure out if they were serious. After a beat her lips tilted up in a twisted smile before she bent over and started cackling.

 

* * *

 

Dean was in love with Cas.

 

He stared at his friend, still in shock over his realization, as Cas suddenly collapsed to the floor. In the blink of an eye, Dean was kneeling next to him, trying to pull him up. “Cas! CAS!”

 

Dean carded his fingers through his hair. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Sam said they had a week and even then…

 

“Cas!” Dean cupped his cheek, gently smacking it in an attempt of trying to wake him up. He refused to believe he was dying from the damn curse.

 

Cas gasped and his eyes opened as he arched up, before shaking his head in confusion. He squinted his eyes at Dean. “Dean? What happened?”

 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Dean exhaled in relief as he pulled Cas into a tight hug for a moment, before he leaned back to get a good look at him. “Are you okay? You just collapsed.”

 

He nodded hesitantly before his eyes widened with what appeared to be some sort of revelation. Cas smiled. “Yes, Dean. I’m… I’m better than okay! I think Sam must have found the witch… I’m cured.”

 

“Oh.” Dean nodded, feeling overwhelmed by a freight train full of different emotions. “That’s incredible, Cas,” he murmured before he took in a deep breath and helped Cas up from the floor. For a moment he felt paralyzed, he had no idea how to react, still in shock over his own realization and the rollercoaster of emotions coursing through his body.

 

He watched Cas dust off his trenchcoat with a soft smile around his lips. “You must be so relieved I won’t be tackling your face anymore,” he teased.

 

“Yeah,” Dean answered with a feigned smile, nearly wincing at how lame that had sounded. “Pretty awkward. Glad that’s over, man.”

 

Cas smiled as he pulled out a pie from one of the bags. “Want to celebrate?”

 

No, he wanted to go out and shoot something in its face. But that wasn’t what came out of his mouth. Instead he just nodded. “Sure.” He sat down at the table and scrubbed his hands over his face. “So, you’re not feeling anything for me anymore?” Why did he have to torture himself? In an attempt to distract himself, he went through one of the bags Cas had brought in and luckily found beer. It was lukewarm, but he didn’t care. Dean grabbed one and opened it, quickly taking a huge gulp, hoping he could get himself really drunk, very quickly.

 

With a shake of his head, Cas sliced up the pie and served him a piece. “No. The weird obsessive mimicry of love and being able to feel what you feel is completely gone. The urge to harm myself… it’s all gone.”

 

Dean smiled, now genuinely. At least that was something. He was glad, fucking relieved in fact, that Cas wasn’t cursed anymore. “I’m glad, Cas. Seeing you like that was really scary.” He nodded, more to himself as he tried to come to terms with his feelings. 

 

Cas leaned over and placed his hand gently over Dean’s. “Thank you again, for everything.”

 

Dean shook his head. “Not for that, Cas.” He felt physically sick in that moment. They had sex the night before. And not just sex, but breathtakingly awesome sex. The closeness, the love, everything he had felt from Cas in the past few days was gone now. Back to square one. As if he was basically saying, 'Thanks for the fuck and all, but that's it! Ciao, adios, and goodbye'.

 

He would have laughed over the irony that he realized he had fallen in love with Cas at the exact same moment Cas was cured of the love curse, if his heart wasn't shattering into a million pieces.

 

“I’m very fortunate to have a Winchester for a best friend.” Cas sighed contentedly as he leaned back in his chair to watch Dean.

 

Dean shrugged and took another swig of his beer. “At least you still like me after this.”

 

“At least you still like  _ me,”  _ he countered with an amused grin.

 

“Cas...” Dean looked at the ceiling for a moment, collecting his thoughts before finally saying, “No matter what happens between us, that won’t ever change. I told you, you’re family.” He felt a stinging pain in his heart, even though he knew there was a fundamental truth behind those words, he still knew he wanted more. So much more. He didn’t even have the first clue about how he could handle going back to just being friends after that. At least Cas didn’t know about his inner struggle. At least he could still pretend.

 

Cas chuckled. “Like I said. I’m very fortunate.”

 

Dean gave Cas a soft smile.  _ Fuck.  _ All he could think about was wanting to lean over and kiss Cas again. To feel those soft lips just one last time. “I think I really need that pie now.”

 

“Cherry. Your favorite, right?” he asked as he handed Dean a plastic fork.

 

_ “Pie  _ is my favorite,” Dean corrected with a grin that he knew didn’t quite reach his eyes. As he took the fork from Cas, their fingers touched for a moment and Dean bit his lip. He had to stop himself in the last second from grabbing Cas’s hand. His heart stumbled from just their touch and it hurt even more, knowing now what it felt like to be close to Cas, just to never feel that again.

 

Like someone gave him a piece of the best pie in the world, just to tell him he will never have something that perfect in his life ever again. It wasn’t fair. He hated that damn curse for ruining his blissful ignorance. “Doesn’t matter which flavor,” he murmured before he dug into the pie. At least he got some comfort food out of it.

 

Cas let out an amused chuckle, his lips turned up in slight disgust through his smile. “Your eating habits are abysmal.”

 

“Uh, uh,” Dean shook his head as he answered with his mouth full of pie. “You don’t get to complain. You bought me pie.”

 

“Can’t argue that.”

 

* * *

 

To be free of the stranglehold the curse had on his emotions, causing him actual physical pain as well as emotional, was such a relief. Cas had never experienced such extremes in emotions before and if he was perfectly honest, he would be happy to never experience it again.

 

Dean seemed a little off, not quite as pleased as he should have been at the outcome, but without being able to feel the man’s emotions any longer, he couldn’t be certain. And he wasn’t exactly the best judge when it came to emotions. 

 

Despite the curse having been lifted, Dean was content to stay in the motel room and watch television with Cas as they awaited Sam’s return. He’d sent a text saying they had gotten the witch and were on their way back. 

 

It was bizarre, sitting next to Dean on the bed and not cuddling up with him. Not having this overwhelming need for closeness, for contact. Cas tried to imagine having that need again, but it was completely lost. Which was quite strange, in and of itself, because he had felt such desires in the past, prior to the curse.

 

Perhaps when love is cured, it is cured in its entirety. Fabricated as well as genuine. While ultimately that was a good thing, he couldn’t help but feel the loss. Especially when his thoughts returned to the night they spent together. The things he felt physically as well as emotionally in the throes of passion with a man who had been such an integral part of his life, it almost seemed surreal they’d only known each other for such a brief portion of his lengthy existence.

 

Cas was tempted to reach out for Dean’s hand to see if it invoked any sort of reaction in him, but they were interrupted by Sam and Mick coming into the room. Dean practically leapt from the bed in his haste to approach them.

 

Sam looked devastated. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing we could do.”

 

With a head tilt, Cas asked, “What do you mean?”

 

Sam walked past Dean, who had his face turned to the floor, his shoulders hunched and his body tensed up. “It wasn’t in the power of that witch to lift that curse.”

 

“I don’t understand…” What was Sam trying to say? The curse  _ had  _ been lifted. If the witch hadn’t done it… then how?

 

Mick stepped more into the room. “The point of the curse is to torture its victim. The only way to lift it is for whomever they fall in love with to reciprocate their feelings, you know, fall in love back. And if that happens, which isn’t bloody likely, then they’re free of their obsessive love. Pretty ingenious way to ruin multiple people’s lives, if you ask me.”

 

Sam shot Mick a pointed look. “Seriously?” He looked back at Cas. “I’m so sorry. We’ll keep looking. There  _ has  _ to be a way…”

 

Cas shook his head and turned to look at Dean, confusion washing over him. “Dean?”

 

Dean stood there, his body tense and his gaze on the ground, before he just turned around and left the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

 

“The hell was that?” Sam cried, him and Mick clearly confused by the reaction.

 

Cas felt frozen for a moment, trying to process what was just said. What that actually meant. At the expectant looks from the two humans, Cas sighed. “The curse is gone, Sam.”

 

For a moment Sam looked confused before realization dawned on his face. “Oh. That means Dean… Oh, shit.”

 

‘Oh, shit’ was right. Dean was in love with him? Dean had  _ actually  _ fallen in love with him? Cas shook his head again in dismay. He had no idea how to react. What he should do. If he should go to Dean, or if that would make things worse. He had never felt quite so shaken before. Not even under the effects of that damnable love curse. How could something that would have brought him such joy a mere few hours ago now be such a terrible, heartbreaking thing?

 

Cas was no longer in love with Dean, because Dean had fallen in love with him. Apparently, the love curse was ironic, in the most torturous way imaginable. And the worst part was, he was now responsible for the heartbreak of his best friend. Love really was a cruel bitch.

 

* * *

 

**_Now_ **

 

“So, what are you going to do? You just wanna give up because both of you have to start over again?” Sam asked quietly.

 

“What part of ‘I don’t wanna talk about it’ escapes your understanding? He doesn’t feel the same. Even if he did, he doesn’t anymore. And there’s nothing I can do about it. The curse took care of that.” Dean took another swig of his beer. “It’s probably for the best,” he murmured as he put the bottle down.

 

“Why are you doing this to yourself? What would it hurt to just talk to the guy?”

 

Dean had purposefully avoided Cas since they got home and Cas, good friend that he was, had respected that. Or maybe he was just weirded out by Dean having feelings for him. Either way, yes it would hurt to talk to him, but he didn’t say that out loud. Instead he just kneaded the bridge of his nose, trying to quell the oncoming headache before he stood up. “I need some air.”

 

“Dean.” Sam’s tone was authoritative.

 

“What?” Dean asked feeling annoyed as he turned around, glaring at his younger brother.

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“You ‘don’t care’ what?”

 

Sam swiveled his chair to face Dean directly. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to, what you’re into, who you fall in love with. I don’t care because it doesn’t matter. But I  _ do  _ care when you’re obviously hurting. You’re scared, I get that. It’s easier to ignore than to be rejected. But we’ve faced down a lot scarier shit. You can survive forty years in Hell. You can man up and talk to the guy you’re in love with.”

 

Dean shook his head and raised his arms in frustration. “I don’t get why you’re so hell bent on thinking that talking would lead to anything? Talking about this won’t change the facts.“

 

“You can’t know that! You can’t if you don’t even try.”

 

He roughly ruffled his own hair. “I don’t have to try. I already know how Cas feels about this.”

 

Dean turned around, he really needed to get out. Fresh air, feeling Baby’s hood under him, nursing a beer, while he watched the stars. That was what he needed right now. Not his stupid brother, being all girly, touchy-feely. 

 

He ignored Sam shouting after him as he went to the kitchen to grab another beer before he made his way up the staircase and outside. It wasn’t very warm, the sun had already set a few hours ago, but he didn’t mind the cold.

 

He hadn’t parked the Impala in the garage just in case he needed to make a quick exit after an inevitable talk with his brother. Not that he wanted to drive anywhere, but just being close to his car gave him some semblance of security.

 

When he hopped onto the hood, leaning back against the windshield, he took in a deep breath. It felt soothing to feel the cold metal against his back, even through his shirt. Like being grounded after someone pulled the rug from under his feet.

 

Everything had changed and he hated it. He couldn’t feel sorry for the fact that his stupid situation had saved Cas’s life. It was strange to feel grateful for something so messed up. He didn’t even have time enough to come to terms with that shit. 

 

It wasn’t just the fact that Cas was a guy  –  well, an angel, but in a very male body. What was freaking him out even more was the fact that he was in love with him. So much that it actually scared him. He knew he had never felt this way about anyone in his life. Not even Lisa.

 

And that was the thing. Since that time he thought he’d closed that chapter of his life. He had never believed another relationship with someone was in the cards, let alone love.

 

He knew there was a part of him that had yearned for a life like that. A part that had grown bigger and louder over the past two years. It had been so obvious that he was periodically called out on it. Dean smiled when he remembered Mildred, telling him he was pining for someone, or how Sam had tried to talk to him after they met Jesse and Cesar.

 

Dean scoffed when he remembered how he reacted to finding out that they were together. Now with him finally realizing that he was in love with Cas, it somehow made more sense. They had reminded him, in a pretty upfront kind of way, of the things Dean could have had in his life if he would have just been open to the possibility. And it explained why he had felt so confused about the utter envy he felt when they made it to the finish line together.

 

At the time he thought it was just because he wanted that, too. That he was envious about the idea of having someone in his life. But it had been so much more. It was the way they had been with each other, showing him that his image of gay men was stupid and full of stereotypes. What had made him so uncomfortable was the realization that he could still be himself, flannel shirts, whiskey, and burgers; no matter who he loved. And that was too close to a truth he didn’t want to realize, he had wanted to push away from himself. 

 

Now that everything was out there in the open, he was slowly coming to terms with it. He knew it would take time, especially since Cas stopped having feelings for him, thanks to that damn curse. Just another notch on the long list of fuck ups in his life.

 

Just to torture himself a bit more he closed his eyes and tried to recall the way it felt having Cas physically close to him. Not just the way he tasted, or the sensation of the guy’s lips against his own, but especially how Dean felt when Cas had his arms around him, just holding him close. 

 

What he had felt in that moment, the closeness, the warmth… everything had spelled security and home to Dean. Like he arrived at a point in his life he had always meant to end up. The end of the line. Cas was it for Dean. There was no doubt in his mind.

 

And the stupid curse had taken all of that from him.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 

He had no idea how long he had been brooding outside, watching the stars, before Cas tentatively walked up to him. Dean sighed deeply. “Did Sam ask you to check up on me?”

 

“No,” was all he said as he moved to sit next to Dean on Baby’s hood. After a beat of silence, staring straight ahead, Cas finally said, “I miss my best friend.”

 

Dean gave him a quick, sad smile. “Sorry I was avoiding you.”

 

Cas let out a sigh and finally turned to look at him. “Why?”

 

Dean shook his head, rubbing his forehead with one hand. “Don’t make me say it. You know why.”

 

“I’m not asking why you avoided me, I’m wondering why it matters?” he asked, his voice annoyingly monotone and just so damn angel-like. Dean hated it.

 

"Because it's torture seeing you, being reminded of everything I lost. So, maybe it doesn't matter to you, but it fucking does to me." He hadn’t planned on saying it like that, but days of frustration and anger finally found a way out.

 

Cas tilted his head, brow furrowed in concern as he responded, “I lost, too, Dean.”

 

"But you didn't lose anything you would miss." Dean huffed, before he looked down at his hands. "This is stupid. I'm glad we got this curse off you. I'm freakin’ thrilled, but –" He shook his head, not knowing how he should end the sentence. He didn't know what he wanted anymore, except that he wanted Cas.

 

But not like this. He scrubbed his hand over his face again. "I just don't know if I can get back to how we were."

 

“Don’t presume to know what I would and would not miss.” Cas sounded authoritative, clearly annoyed with the situation as much as Dean.

 

Dean looked up, for the first time he allowed himself to really look at his friend. Taking in the ruffled hair, the blue and wide-awake eyes, the shadow of his stubble... All he wanted was to lean over and kiss those lips again, lips that were pressed into a thin line at the moment. His heart ached for him.

 

"What do you want, Cas?" he finally asked, not knowing if he had the strength to continue this conversation.

 

“I want my friend back.” His voice was shaky, tone resigned.

 

He wanted to say something reassuring. He wanted to tell Cas that they could go back to just being friends. But he couldn't. Maybe someday. When it eventually stopped hurting every time he looked at Cas.

 

Dean knew this was it for him. Cas was the one. What he’d been missing in his life to find happiness. Real happiness. And par for the course of his life, he got a glimpse of it before it was snatched away, being dangled in front of his nose like a carrot for a donkey to keep him going. It was cruel and he refused to play the game any longer.

 

"I don't know if I can, Cas. I need some time and space – away from you," Dean finally muttered, his heart breaking all over again with every word.

 

Cas let out a mirthless chuckle, and with a sad shake of his head he got up from the hood of Baby. “I’ll start looking for somewhere else to live...”

 

Dean grabbed his shoulder. “That wasn’t what I meant, Cas. I’m actually thinking of going away for a while. Clear my head. This is your home.”

 

“So, you’re allowed to isolate your family in order to deal with unexpected feelings, but when it happens to me, you have to be there at my side throughout? How is that fair?”

 

“That’s hardly the same. I’m not cursed and wanting to off myself the minute I’m alone.”

 

Cas folded his arms across his chest. “How am I supposed to know that? You’ve been down, depressed, whatever you want to call it. You refuse to speak to your brother and until today, avoided me at all costs. Would it kill you to talk about it? So, you’re in love with me, why is it the end of the world?”

 

Dean let go of Cas, sliding off of the hood because he needed to move. His anger over the situation had pooled inside of his chest, straining his heart, and it was becoming unbearable just sitting there and listening to Cas. So, he stalked off toward the nearby woods. He just needed to breathe, to get away. 

 

He was roughly spun around by strong and determined hands, Cas standing there, for the first time emotion on his face. “For someone as brave as you, you sure are a damn coward,” he spat.

 

Dean pushed Cas away from him. "Leave me the fuck alone!" It felt good pushing Cas, so he did it again. "Let me tell you why this is the end of the world for me." He slammed Cas against a tree, pinning him there. "I'm not just in love with you, Cas. You're the one for me, you asshole. My only fucking chance at happiness was drained down the sink because of that fucking curse. So, excuse me for not feeling overjoyed having you in my face all the time, feeling nothing at all for me!" 

 

Cas shoved back at him. “You’re a moron if you think I feel nothing for you, Dean Winchester!”

 

Dean huffed. “Oh, yeah? What’s that? The feeling that I’m a pain in your ass?”

 

“No, you ass! I care about you!”

 

“If that were true, you would just leave me alone. How can I get over you, if you’re always there? All I think about is what we had, how it felt… I just want to feel that again… I just want…” Dean felt his voice breaking. He looked away, his eyes were burning.

 

“What if I don't want you to get over me?” Cas’s own voice wavered.

 

“What?” Dean looked up, thinking he couldn’t have heard that right.

 

Cas stepped closer, his hands raised slightly as though he were about to reach out before he retracted them. Instead he held Dean’s gaze and let out a deep exhale before answering, “I rebelled because of you… for you. Over and over again. I chose you over my orders, Heaven, my family. And I would always choose you. My entire existence meant nothing…  _ nothing,  _ Dean. Not until I met you. And just because I'm not presently in love with you, doesn't mean I  _ can't  _ be.”

 

Dean bit his lip. He didn’t want to feel hope. Hope was just another way to get crushed in the end. But once Cas’s words had settled in, it was hard not to feel that glimmer of damnable hope. “What’re you saying, Cas?” He hated how the hope had wormed its way into the tremble of his voice.

 

“I fell in love with you once, who's to say I can't do it again?” he asked, a hopeful smile quirking his lips.

 

Dean stepped forward without making a conscious decision. His heart rate erratic, going a million beats per second. He wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him close, resting his head against his friend’s shoulder. Dean inhaled deeply, whispering Cas’s name against his throat. When he pulled back he looked at Cas, for a moment his eyes dropped down to his lips before he looked up again. “Does that mean I can ask you out on a date?” he joked lamely.

 

Cas cupped Dean’s face and chuckled. “You can ask me on anything you’d like.”

 

“Can I kiss you?” The question was out before he could stop himself.

 

Without hesitation, Cas leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. As he drew back he smirked. “The Dean Winchester  _ I  _ know, wouldn’t ask.”

 

Dean smiled, as though the heavy weight crushing his chest had magically been lifted. He couldn't believe this was happening. "When you wanna kiss someone who could smite you into oblivion, you tend to make sure it's alright." He chuckled as happiness started to course through his heart, making him feel warm and tingly all over. His grin widened before he cupped Cas's face and drew him into a real kiss. One in which he didn’t hold anything back, pouring all of himself into the kiss. The kind of kiss that spoke of pure love and irretrievable happiness. 

 

And all of the good things that sometimes  _ do  _ happen.

 

* * *

 

Men of Letters | File 952SW68 04032017

 

_ Sam Winchester’s personal notes: _

 

_ Two weeks ago we got this case in Savannah, Georgia and it's one of those rare occasions where I wish I could go back in time and change everything. I wish I would have never found out about that shop and the cursed objects they sold. I couldn't imagine how this little case, that started out so harmless, unremarkable… could have such devastating consequences for my brother and our friend Cas.  _

 

_ I wrote everything down, just in case a hunter or another Man of Letters comes across something like this. So hopefully, whoever will read this, can prevent something like this from happening again. _

 

_ The object was a pendant in the shape of a broken heart, cursed with what is known as the Heart of Ophelia curse. The intent behind this curse is to cause its victim to fall in love with the first person they see, and progressively get more and more obsessed with that person. To such a point, they can physically feel the other person’s emotions. The spell is so powerful, the victim will hurt him or herself and in a week, if the feelings aren’t returned, the victim will commit suicide. _

 

_ Our friend, Castiel, got hit with it, falling in fake love with my brother, Dean. It was a hellish week, trying to keep Cas from hurting himself, while I tried to find the witch. When I did, she informed us this particular curse functions as a revenge curse, usually for an unfaithful lover. And if the victim actually manages to get the person they’re in love with to return their feelings, that is when the curse will be lifted.  _

 

_ So, an angel who doesn't have much experience with the spectrum of human emotion-fell in love with a human, and somehow through everything, Dean thankfully returned his feelings, which saved Cas, but almost completely broke Dean. Castiel was no longer in love and Dean was completely messed up over the whole situation.  _

 

_ This is recorded as a means of reference, so should anyone else succumb to this curse, there’s evidence on how to find the cure. Not that it’s an easy cure... _

  
  


“Sammy!” Dean barked. “We’re gonna start the movie without you!”

 

“Coming!” Sam yelled back as he smiled, looking forward to their now weekly family night where they watched whatever terrible movie they could find, eat pizza, drink beer, and Sam would pretend to not notice the ridiculous and almost adorable way Dean would dote on his boyfriend. He turned back to his laptop.

 

* * *

Men of Letters | File 952SW68 04032017

 

_ But if the cure is found, the spell ends up being less of a curse and more like a blessing. _

  
  


**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGAIN! HUGE SQUISHY THANK YOUS TO OUR BETA: sammyxcakes AND OUR ARTIST: nonexistenz!
> 
> You guys fucking rock! And yay! Our first BB! Thanks Mods for the SPNCanonBB for being so patient with us and our plethora of questions! <3<3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] The Heart of Ophelia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11561499) by [Nonexistenz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz)




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